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GAMBOLLING   WITH   GALATEA 


OK  LOS  ANGELES 


(page  30) 
I    WOULD  N'T    ROOST    IN    A    CHERRY    TREE 


GAMBOLLING  WITH 
GALATEA:    A  BUCOLIC 


ROMANCE 


By  CURTIS  DUNHAM 

Author  of  "  The  Casino  Girl  in  London," 
"Two  in  a  Zoo,"  "The  Golden  Goblin,"  etc. 


WITH    ILLUSTRATIONS 
BY   OLIVER    HERFORD 


TOUT!      /BIEN 
OU  \   /RIEN 


HOUGHTON  MIFFLIN     COMPANY 

BOSTON     &  NEW    YORK     .;.      THE 

RIVERSIDE  PRESS     CAMBRIDGE 

M  D  C  C  C  C  I  X 


COPYRIGHT,  1909,  BY  CURTIS  DUNHAM  AND  HOUGHTON  MIFFLIN  COMPANY 
ALL   RIGHTS   RESERVED 

Published  May  IQOQ 


PRELIMINARY 


Preliminary  and  Confidential 


AIR  reader  (and  unfair  one,  of 
either  sex),  I  pray  you  be  not 
dismayed  by  the  profundity 
of  this  discourse.  Doubtless 
there  are  some  light-minded 
observers  who  would  have  seen  in  the  natural 
phenomena  herein  recorded  the  very  quintes- 
sence of  humor,  the  apotheosis  of  the  comical. 
Such  pretenders  to  scientific  and  literary  emi- 
nence would  entertain  the  same  view  of  the 
noble  Titanotherium  Robustum,  or  the  sublime 
Stegosaurus  Ungulatus.  They  would  have  cast 
merry  doubts  upon  the  improving  conversation 
between  Balaam  and  his  Ass;  ridiculed  the 
psychic  resources  of  the  Birds  of  St.  Francis 
d'Assisi;  scoffed  at  the  gratitude  of  ^Esop's 


VII 


2129042 


GAMBOLLING   WITH   GALATEA 

Lion;  denied  the  acumen  of  the  Jumping 
Frog  of  Calaveras ;  yea,  and  presumed  to  say 
"scat"  to  the  sacred  Cat  of  Bubastis. 

Fair  reader  (or  unfair  one),  be  warned  against 
all  such  triflers  with  the  important  truths  of 
nature.  Life  is  earnest.  Turn  the  page —  read, 
ponder,  and  be  wise. 

C.  D. 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 


Contents 


PRELIMINARY  AND  CONFIDENTIAL  vii 

PART  I 
INITIATION  OF  THE  TWO-LEGGED  PARTNERS  i 

PAR  T  II 
FAIR  WARNING  TO  THE  HORSELESS  39 

PAR  T  III 

PlG-MALION  AND  GALATEA  67 

PAR  T  IF 

THE  OBSEQUIES  OF  Bos  NEMO  98 

PART  V 
EQUUS  MINOR,  DETECTIVE  127 

PAR  T  VI 
TAURUS  CUPID,  Eso^  157 


GAMBOLLING  WITH   GALATEA 

Illustrations 

"  I  would  n't  roost  in  a  cherry  tree  "  (page  jo)     Frontispiece 
The  goat  seemed  to  nod  his  approval  44. 

Sit  perfectly  still  for  five  minutes  while  the  gentleman 

takes  your  picture  92 

Seized  her  hand  and  kissed  it  ardently  126 

The  guests  ate  their  turnips  decorously  150 

All  the  four-legged  members  of  the  frm  had  drawn  near     1 68 


GAMBOLLING    WITH    GALATEA 


THE  TWO-LEGGED  PARTNERS 

I 

Initiation  of  the  Two- Legged  Partners 

HE  thing  was  incredible.  It 
was  intolerable  — just  cause  for 
mutiny.  Talk  about  injustice, 
arrogant  denial  of  the  equal 
rights  of  man  and  beast !  Well, 
here  was  a  spectacle  calculated  to  make  the 
heavens  weep.  Yet  never  had  a  June  sky  re- 
vealed a  deeper  shade  of  blue  for  fleecy  clouds 
to  sail  upon.  The  wind  that  should  have  risen 
in  a  shriek  of  indignation  blew  softly  around 
the  corner  of  the  barn,  and  was  laden  with  fra- 
grance from  all  the  flowers  that  bloom.  In  the 
meadow  just  beyond  the  stone  fence,  the  tall 
grass  waved  gently,  whispering  contentment  to 
the  brook  that  gurgled  with  happiness.  Birds 
sang,  grasshoppers  chirped  — 
...3... 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 

Clarence  could  stand  it  no  longer.  With  his 
neck  stretched  far  out  of  his  stall  window,  the 
colt  lifted  up  his  voice  and  whinnied  remon- 
strance. 

"  O  Amanda  !  Why  arewe  still  prisoners,  and 
the  sun  half-way  up  the  roof  of  heaven  ?  It  is 
an  outrage,  Amanda.  Come  quickly  and  let  us 
out." 

Reginald  —  the  round  fat  one  with  the  tight 
kink  in  his  tail  —  stood  on  his  hind-legs  inside 
the  barnyard  fence  under  the  colt's  nose,  and 
voiced  his  personal  grievance  in  short  sharp 
squeaks. 

"  Let  me  out,  let  me  out,  let  me  out !  My 
trough  is  empty.  My  flattened  belly  cleaves  to 
my  backbone." 

On  either  side  of  him  were  Mrs.  Cowslip  and 
Gustavius,  with  their  heads  over  the  fence  and 
their  noses  in  the  air. 

"Amanda,  O  Amanda!"  bawled  the  bull- 
...4... 


THE  TWO-LEGGED   PARTNERS 

calf,  while  his  mother  —  she  of  the  liquid  eyes 
and  the  crumpled  horn  —  lowed  her  gentle 
reminder :  - 

"  Good,  kind  Amanda,  this  yard  is  bar- 
ren; in  the  pasture  the  long  grass  is  luscious. 
Amanda,  O  Amanda  !  " 

And  William,  the  big-horned  and  bearded 
one,  butted  foolishly  at  the  hinges  of  the  barn- 
yard gate. 

The  others  gave  no  heed  to  William's  puerile 
devices.  He  was  only  an  addle-pated  goat  any- 
way, devoid  of  reasoning  power  and  puffed  up 
with  vanity.  They  put  their  noses  together  and 
considered  the  matter,  the  bull-calf  wrinkling 
his  yellow  muzzle  at  Clarence's  ear  and  drop- 
ping now  and  then  a  superfluous  comment. 
Ordinarily  the  colt,  having  an  exalted  sense  of 
his  own  superiority,  would  have  indulged  in  no 
such  familiarity  with  a  placid  old  cow  and  her 
lubberly  calf;  but  it  was  plain  that  the  present 
...5... 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 

occasion  was  one  demanding  the  sinking  of  the 
individual  in  the  organization.  So  Clarence 
patiently  reviewed  the  situation,  inviting  their 
suggestions. 

To  go  back  to  the  events  of  the  early  morn- 
ing. Why  had  that  two-legged  tyrant,  who 
always  responded  so  promptly  to  the  vulgar 
name  of  Gabe  whenever  Amanda  hailed  him 
from  the  kitchen  door,  harnessed  the  mare  and 
driven  off,  leaving  them  deprived  of  their  cus- 
tomary liberty,  and  without  a  word  of  expla- 
nation ?  The  act  was  contrary  to  the  Professor's 
most  sacred  principle  of  equity  for  all  living 
creatures,  whether  having  four  legs  or  only 
two. 

"  And  yet  just  now  you  led  us  in  our  suppli- 
cations to  Amanda,"  observed  Mrs.  Cowslip. 
"Why  did  you  not  remind  the  Professor  of 


"Ah!"  broke  in  Gustavius,  "you  can  trust 
...6-.. 


THE  TWO-LEGGED  PARTNERS 

the  Professor  to  understand  the  needs  of  a  bull- 
calf." 

"  You  don't  have  to  ask  the  Professor  twice 
when  you  want  your  back  scratched/'  grunted 
Reginald,  his  tail  kinking  tighter  than  ever 
with  delicious  memories. 

"The  Professor  has  a  large,  round,  and 
most  inviting  stomach,"  commented  William. 
"  Never  before  have  I  spared  such  a  stomach. 
Yet  never  have  I  felt  the  slightest  inclination 
to  butt  the  Professor." 

Mrs.  Cowslip  turned  her  mild  eyes  inquir- 
ingly on  the  colt.  "  I  suggest,"  she  said,  "  that 
we  remind  the  Professor  —  " 

"My  gracious!"  interrupted  Clarence  with 
impatience.  "Can't  you  fellows  remember  any- 
thing over-night  ?  The  Professor  drove  off  be- 
hind my  mother  yesterday  morning.  There  was 
a  box  beside  him  in  the  wagon.  He  wore  his 
high  hat.  Mother  came  home  without  him. 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 

There  's  nobody  left  in  the  house  but  Amanda 
and  that  two-legged  Gabe." 

Just  then  Gustavius  tossed  his  immature  horns 
and  bellowed :  — 

"Amanda!  Amanda!" 

With  an  apron  over  her  head  and  a  tin  pail 
on  her  arm,  Amanda  had  come  into  view  be- 
yond the  angle  of  the  barn. 

"  She  's  going  to  the  strawberry-patch  over 
beyond  the  orchard,"  said  Clarence,  excitedly. 
"  Quick  !  Now,  all  together !  " 

Amanda  had  not  the  hardihood  to  ignore 
the  resulting  chorus  of  appeals  to  her.  But  she 
passed  quickly  on  out  of  sight,  after  turning 
long  enough  to  wave  her  hand  and  answer :  — 

"Jest  be  patient,  you  critters.  Gabe '11 'tend 
to  you  when  he  gits  home." 

The  colt  nearly  burst  with  indignation. 

"That  settles  it,"  he  shrieked,  lashing  out 
with  his  heels  so  that  there  was  a  great  clatter 


THE  TWO-LEGGED  PARTNERS 

of  things  loose  in  the  barn.  Then  he  drew  back 
his  lips,  baring  his  teeth,  and  began  snapping 
at  the  latch-string  of  the  barn-door,  which  was 
just  beyond  his  reach. 

"  It 's  a  pity,"  said  Mrs.  Cowslip.  "  I  've 
seen  your  mother  let  herself  in  that  way  many 
a  time,  when  she  was  full  of  grass  and  eager  for 
her  midday  nap." 

"  If  I  was  only  out  of  here,  I  could 
reach  that  string,"  grunted  Reginald,  with  one 
thought  for  the  colt  and  two  for  himself. 

"  Oh,  we  know  all  about  you,"  retorted  Clar- 
ence with  exasperation.  "  If  you  could  get  out 
you  'd  scoot  for  those  artichokes  down  by  the 
brook  and  never  look  behind  you,  you  fat,  self- 
ish, kink-tailed  little  beast." 

"  Just  you  try  me,"  urged  the  pig,  for  he  had 
great  confidence  in  the  colt's  resources. 

Once  more  their  noses  were  close  together, 
while  Clarence  instructed  them  in  the  details  of 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 

a  desperate  effort  designed  to  gain  freedom  for 
them  all. 

To  contend  with  the  smug  incredulity  of 
those  millions  of  human  kind  who  spend  their 
lives  in  little  brick-and-mortar  boxes  set  one  on 
top  of  another  in  long  double  rows  is  the  fate 
of  all  chroniclers  of  the  important  aspects  of 
nature.  But  truth  is  mighty  and  will  prevail. 
Let  us  therefore  proceed  calmly  with  the  facts. 

When  Clarence  had  repeated  his  instructions 
several  times,  Reginald  gave  three  sharp,  intel- 
ligent grunts  and  ran  straight  to  the  barnyard 
gate.  With  his  stiffened  snout  he  began  furi- 
ously attacking  the  hard  earth  beneath  the  lower 
bar. 

"  Not  there,  you  idiot !  "  squealed  the  colt. 
"  The  other  end.  The  other  end,  where  the  iron 
hinges  are  !  " 

Reginald  stood  corrected.  While  the  dirt  flew 
from  under  the  hinged  end  of  the  gate,  Gusta- 
. . .  10- •  • 


THE  TWO-LEGGED  PARTNERS 

vius  galloped  foolishly  around  the  yard  with  his 
tail  aloft,  and  William,  with  a  coolly  calculating 
eye  on  those  hinges,  backed  away  slowly,  with 
significance  understood  by  all  the  other  con- 
spirators. Mrs.  Cowslip  looked  on  benignantly. 
Presently  the  pig  got  his  sturdy  shoulders  under 
the  gate  and  heaved  with  all  his  might.  Wil- 
liam, with  head  down,  leaped  to  the  assault. 
The  crash  of  his  horns  on  those  hinges  reechoed 
between  orchard  and  wooded  hills.  But  the  gate 
was  raised  only  an  inch  or  two,  and  Reginald 
stuck  fast.  His  squeals  as  he  struggled  would 
have  melted  a  heart  of  stone.  William  backed 
away  for  another  assault.  It  was  while  he  was 
in  mid-air  that  Clarence  shrilled :  — 
"  Not  the  hinges  !  The  pig,  the  pig  ! '' 
William  understood.  This  time  all  the  weight 
behind  his  horns  landed  with  a  resounding  smack 
on  Reginald's  inviting  posterior.  In  the  midst 
of  heart-rending  squeals  the  gate  rose  in  the  air 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 

and  the  barnyard  prisoners  looked  out  on  lib- 
erty. Instantly  Reginald  was  offin  the  direction 
of  the  artichokes. 

"Stop!"  shrieked  Clarence.  "As  I  'm  a 
thoroughbred,  you  shall  feel  my  heels  among 
your  spareribs ! J) 

Reginald  looked  back,  and  seeing  immediate 
menace  in  the  lowered  horns  of  Mrs.  Cowslip 
and  Gustavius,  turned  about,  ran  to  the  barn- 
door, stood  on  his  hind-legs,  seized  with  his 
teeth  the  leather  string  at  which  the  colt  was 
frantically  snapping,  gave  one  sharp  pull  —  and 
the  deed  was  done.  If  Amanda,  a  moment  later, 
had  looked  up  from  her  strawberry-picking,  she 
would  have  seen,  circling  over  the  half-lawn, 
half-pasture  between  the  barn  and  the  house,  all 
tails  in  the  air,  a  triumphant  procession  consist- 
ing of  one  yearling  colt,  one  cow  with  a  crum- 
pled horn,  one  bull-calf,  one  he-goat  making 
short  stiff-legged  jumps  with  horns  lowered,  and 
...  12  •• 


THE  TWO-LEGGED  PARTNERS 

one  pig  bringing  up  the  rear  with  a  tail  now  so 
tightly  kinked  that  it  lifted  his  hind-quarters 
clear  of  the  ground  at  every  second  leap. 

But  Amanda's  mind  was  glued  on  strawber- 
ries ;  and  for  the  present  other  matters  of  mo- 
ment require  us,  too,  to  leave  the  escaped  pris- 
oners to  their  own  devices. 

Half  a  mile  away  the  Poet  and  his  sister  sat 
on  a  boulder  beside  the  road.  It  was  a  semi- 
public  road  winding  around  the  foot  of  a 
wooded  hill.  Behind  them,  a  mile  away,  was 
the  railway  station.  That  mile  had  been  mostly 
uphill,  and  the  Poet  did  not  love  physical  ex- 
ercise. He  was  tall  and  lean,  with  a  geometrical 
figure  composed  mainly  of  acute  angles.  When 
in  a  state  of  repose,  it  resembled  a  carpenter's 
pocket  rule  which  protested  at  being  entirely 
shut  up.  The  Poet's  sister,  on  the  contrary,  was 
mainly  curves — those  delicate,  subtle  curves 
. . .  13. . . 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 

that  deny  the  presence  of  bones,  yet  repel  any 
suggestion  of  fat.  She  was  young ;  not  too 
young — just  young  enough  to  have  won  the 
crowning  glory  of  spinsterhood.  She  had  quan- 
tities of  red  hair,  the  kind  of  red  hair  that  always 
goes  with  that  astonishingly  transparent  skin 
underneath  which  scattering  amber  freckles 
come  and  go  over-night.  There  was  one  now 
on  the  side  of  her  nose,  which  had  a  becom- 
ingly mirthful  tilt  at  the  end.  Her  lips  were  full 
at  the  centre,  carmine,  and  with  finely  shaped 
corners  which  could  not  by  any  possibility  be 
drawn  downward.  She  wore  a  solid  pair  of  calf- 
skin boots,  with  military  heels  which  looked 
small  while  being  ample  in  size.  Her  dark  walk- 
ing-skirt barely  reached  the  interesting  spot 
where  her  bootlaces  were  tied.  Her  waist,  of  a 
soft,  cream-tinted  material,  left  her  neck  and 
throat  bare — for  which  the  Lord  be  praised  ! 
—  and  a  shapeless,  yet  shapely,  fluffy  white 
. . .  14. . . 


THE  TWO-LEGGED  PARTNERS 

thing  resting  on  the  coils  of  her  hair  seemed  to 
absorb  warmth  from  them.  In  short,  you  will 
make  no  mistake  when  you  keep  your  mind 
fixed  on  the  Poet's  sister. 

"Just  around  the  next  turn  of  the  road, 
George,"  she  was  saying,  "  our  little  summer 
Elysium  will  burst  upon  your  view.'* 

The  Poet  mopped  the  long,  solemn  coun- 
tenance that  was  belied  by  his  eyes  and  his  man- 
ner of  speech. 

"  Galatea,  I  have  observed  that  most  things 
elysian  in  this  life  are  generally  just  around  the 
corner.  I  am  not  impatient.  I  can  wait.  In 
fact,  I  should  prefer  to  have  that  first  view  burst 
upon  me  while  I  am  comfortably  seated  in  the 
spring  wagon  of —  What  did  I  understand  you 
to  say  the  gentleman's  name  was,  Galatea  ? " 

"  He  is  called  Gabe." 

"Doubtless  a  corruption  of  Gabriel.  I  won- 
der if  Gabriel  blows  his  trumpet  for  breakfast  ?" 
. . .  15. . . 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 

Galatea's  lips  parted  in  a  musical  ripple  of 
laughter.  The  sight  would  have  caused  a  dent- 
ist to  pass  on,  with  misgivings  about  his  fut- 
ure. The  Poet  merely  remarked  :  — 

"Galatea,  are  you  sure  we  brought  our  tooth- 
brushes ?"  Whereupon  the  dentist  would  have 
been  heartened  by  the  sight  of  a  tiny  point 
of  gold  shining  out  of  the  crown  of  her  left 
bicuspid. 

"  George,  you  lazy  thing,  come  on.  It 's  only 
half  a  mile  further.  Gabriel  probably  missed  us 
at  the  station,  and  has  returned  by  the  main 
road." 

"  Oh,  well,  if  all  roads  lead  to  Elysium,  I 
suppose  it 's  no  use  waiting  here." 

Slowly  the  Poet's  angles  adjusted  themselves 
to  the  upright  position,  and  he  strode  on  beside 
his  sister. 

"So  you  really  like  the  place,  Galatea?" 

"  It 's  lovely  — just  the  spot  to  give  you  in- 
...16... 


THE  TWO-LEGGED  PARTNERS 

spiration,  George.  I  shall  expect  great  things 
of  you,  dear.'* 

"Will  it  inspire  me  to  reduce  the  rhythm  of 
Anacreon  to  ragtime,  do  you  think  ? " 

"  O  George  !  And  there  are  the  Professor's 
pets,  you  know  -  -  Mrs.  Cowslip,  Clarence, 
Reginald,  Gustavius,  and  William.  I  told  you 
about  them.  The  Professor  has  the  most  won- 
derful knack  of  understanding  domestic  ani- 
mals and  making  them  understand  him.  Really, 
they  look  upon  him  as  one  of  themselves.  The 
Professor  says  we  do  our  domestic  animal  pets 
great  injustice  when  we  overlook  their  loyalty 
and  intelligence,  refusing  to  meet  them  half- 
way in  friendly  companionship.  Why,  with 
only  a  little  encouragement  they  develop  the 
most  remarkable  emotions,  almost  human  in 
their  complexity ;  while  their  powers  of  ex- 
pression develop  correspondingly.  Positively 
the  Professor  and  his  cow,  and  colt,  and  pig, 
...17... 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 

and  bull-calf,  —  William  the  goat,  Napoleon 
the  dog,  and  Cleopatra  the  mare  were  away  the 
day  I  called  to  arrange  about  the  lease  for  the 
summer,  —  are  just  one  big  happy  family." 

Galatea's  cheeks  were  flushed  with  enthusi- 
asm. The  Poet's  eyes  twinkled,  but  his  face 
remained  long  and  solemn. 

"  What  name  does  the  pig  answer  to  ? " 
"  Reginald ;  but  he 's  a  nice,  clean  pig." 
"  Yes,  of  course,  being  a  member  of  the  Pro- 
fessor's family.   By  the  way,  did  you  have  an 
opportunity  to  note  Reginald's  table  manners?'* 
"  O  George,  how  perfectly  absurd !  " 
"  Not  necessarily.   I  give  way  to  no  man  in 
my  determination  to  do  justice  to  my  fellow 
creatures,  irrespective  of  the  number  of  legs 
with  which  they  are  equipped.  As  the  Professor 
has  left  us  in  undisputed  possession  for  the  next 
six  months,  there 's  no  telling  what  we  may  ac- 
complish.  What  sort  of  voice  has  Reginald  ?  " 


THE  TWO-LEGGED  PARTNERS 

"  George,  I  shan't  tell  you  another  thing  !  " 

"There,  there.    It  merely  occurred  to  me 
that,  as  neither  you  nor  I  nor  Arthur  sings  - 
By  the  way,  Galatea,  I  suppose  Arthur  will  run 
over  occasionally  in  his  new  automobile,  the 
lucky  beggar  ?" 

"I  lay  claim  to  no  advance  information 
respecting  Arthur's  intentions,"  answered  the 
Poet's  sister,  in  cool,  even  tones.  The  flapping 
brim  of  her  headgear  was  between  the  Poet's 
eyes  and  her  cheek,  suddenly  turned  pink. 

"  Oh,  well,  I  was  only  thinking  what  a  boon 
Arthur's  banjo  and  my  guitar  would  turn  out  to 
be  if  the  pig  should  develop  a  romantic  tenor 
voice.  By  Jove,  Galatea !  If  that 's  the  place,  I 
apologize  for  everything." 

They  had  reached  the  turn  of  the  road  that 

overlooked  their  summer  Elysium.    The  Poet 

distributed   his  joints   over    another   roadside 

boulder,  while  Qalatea  stood  by  his  side,  and 

...19... 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 

gave  his  attention  to  the  charming  scene  in 
detail. 

"  Really,  a  fine,  rambling  old  house  surrounded 
by  shaded  verandas  below,  and  not  too  near  the 
road.  A  stone- walled  inclosure  of  half  a  dozen 
acres  sloping  down  to  a  pretty  brook  that  flows 
under  the  lower  wall  just  below  the  barn  — 
a  comfortable  red  barn  ;  a  barn  that  is  n't  red 
is  only  half  a  barn.  A  kitchen-garden  and  an 
orchard,  and  the  rest  pasture  that  is  neat  enough 
for  a  lawn.  What  romps  we  shall  have,  Gala- 
tea, with  the  colt  and  the  bull-calf!  What 's 
that  vine-covered  affair  reared  against  the  west 
gable  of  the  house  ?  Oh,  a  water-tank.  Just  so; 
there  's  a  pipe  connecting  underground  with 
the  brook,  and  that  wind-wheel  on  the  barn 
roof  does  the  pumping.  Good!  I  anticipate  the 
luxury  of  an  occasional  tub.  I  was  afraid  Ely- 
sium was  like  Germany —  lots  of  romance  and 
no  bathtubs.  Galatea,  we  shall  do — we  shall 
..-20-  •• 


THE  TWO-LEGGED  PARTNERS 

do  beautifully.  But  I  say,  what's  that  funny- 
looking  thing  on  the  peak  of  the  house 
roof?" 

"  Is  n't  it  the  chimney  ? " 

"  It  looks  to  me  like  a  saw-horse." 

They  walked  on.  After  passing  through  a 
grove  of  chestnuts,  they  had  a  nearer  and  better 
view  of  the  house. 

"  No,  it  is  n't  a  saw-horse,"  said  the  Poet. 
"  It  moves.  Did  you  see  it  ? " 

Galatea  looked  embarrassed. 

"  Galatea,  the  thing  on  our  roof  looks  to  me 
uncommonly  like  a  billy-goat.  Galatea,  it  is  a 
billy-goat — I  can  make  out  his  whiskers." 

"  Yes,"  Galatea  admitted  reluctantly,  "  it 
must  be  William." 

"Very  well,  I  foresee  trouble  for  William. 
I  am  quite  willing  to  collaborate  with  the  Pro- 
fessor and  take  William  to  my  bosom  on  equal 
terms  as  a  brother,  but  no  billy-goat  shall  be 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 

the  man  higher  up  in  my  family.  William  has 
got  to  get  down  off  that  roof." 

Presently  they  turned  in  at  the  gate  —  and 
then  the  Poet  doubled  up  like  a  jack-knife. 
Galatea  plumped  down  on  the  grass  and  laughed 
till  she  cried.  A  nice  clean  fat  pig,  with  a  sort 
of  Elizabethan  ruffle  about  his  neck,  raised  him- 
self on  his  forelegs  and  sat  at  a  little  distance 
from  Galatea,  grunting  mild  inquiries  respect- 
ing the  object  of  her  call.  The  ruffle  was  ex- 
plained by  the  presence  of  several  other  articles 
of  feminine  wearing  apparel  scattered  about 
on  the  grass,  evidently  undergoing  the  bleach- 
ing process.  In  making  a  selection  for  his  own 
adornment,  the  pig  had  not  been  quite  discreet. 
A  sleek  and  motherly  cow,  with  one  crumpled 
horn,  lay  in  the  soft  earth  of  a  tulip-bed,  chew- 
ing her  cud.  Her  total  lack  of  humor  was 
manifest  in  the  complacent  glances  which  she 
bestowed  upon  her  offspring,  a  reckless-looking 
...22"- 


THE  TWO-LEGGED  PARTNERS 

bull-calf,  which  wore  a  peach-basket  unneces- 
sarily on  one  of  his  hind-legs.  This  scene  of 
domestic  contentment  was  further  enhanced 
when  a  saucy  yearling  colt  put  his  head  out 
through  the  kitchen  window  and  shook  it 
knowingly  at  the  intruders,  as  much  as  to 
say :  — 

"  Go  away,  strangers.  We  are  at  home,  and 
you  ought  to  be." 

And  then  the  colt,  the  cow,  the  bull-calf,  the 
pig  wearing  the  improvised  ruffle,  and  the  goat 
from  his  perch  on  the  roof,  united  in  a  glance 
of  intense  astonishment  at  the  girl  seated  on  the 
grass.  Why  was  she  swaying  her  body  up  and 
down  in  that  foolish  fashion,  while  her  hands 
beat  the  air  aimlessly  and  her  throat  emitted 
incomprehensible  gurgles,  like  the  bull-calf 
with  a  turnip  stuck  in  his  gullet  ? 

"  Oh  dear,  oh  dear !  '''  choked  Galatea. 
"  Amanda  's  stepped  out  somewhere,  and  Bos, 
...23... 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 

Equus  and  Co.  are  in  full  charge.  The  cow 
chewing  her  cud  in  the  tulip-bed  —  oh  dear, 
oh  dear  !  The  bull-calf  picking  up  stray  peach- 
baskets,  and  the  colt  in  the  kitchen  —  oh  dear, 
oh  dear !  The  pig  wearing  one  of  Amanda's 
—  ha  !  ha  !  he !  he  !  —  one  of  Amanda's  new- 
est aramatums  for  a  collar !  Slap  me  on  the 
back,  George ;  I  shall  die  —  oh  dear,  oh  dear ! 
And  the  goat  overlooking  things  from  the  roof! 
Come  and  fan  me,  George.  Oh  dear,  oh  dear ! " 

But  the  Poet  had  recovered  his  accustomed 
solemnity  of  visage.  He  stood  with  arms  folded, 
contemplating  the  goat. 

"Bos,  Equus  and  Co.  are  plainly  within 
their  rights,"  he  said,  "  excepting  the  goat. 
The  roof  of  our  house  is  not  a  proper  place 
for  any  member  of  our  family,  two-legged  or 
otherwise.  William,  come  down  from  there!" 

The  goat  wrinkled  his  nose  at  the  Poet.   It 
was  as  though  he  had  said :  — 
...24... 


THE  TWO-LEGGED  PARTNERS 

"  Why  should  I  waste  words  on  a  stranger 
and  an  interloper  ?  " 

"  Come  down,  William.  Come  down,  or  I  '11 
assert  the  last  remnant  of  my  authority  as  a  two- 
legged  person." 

William  stamped  his  foot  on  the  shingles  in 
a  manner  plainly  hostile.  The  Poet  picked  up 
a  good-sized  cobble-stone. 

"William,  for  the  last  time  I  warn  you. 
Come  down ! " 

The  goat  backed  up  two  or  three  steps  and 
shook  his  horns. 

"  Very  well,  William,  your  blood  be  on 
your  own  head " ;  and  the  Poet  threw  the 
cobble-stone. 

Now,  as  is  well  known,  a  goat  has  only  one 
really  vulnerable  spot}  namely,  his  curved  and 
bony  nose.  Furthermore,  a  goat's  nose  —  like 
the  beard  of  the  prophet  —  is  sacred.  There- 
fore, when  the  cobble-stone,  flying  straight 
...25... 


GAMBOLLING   WITH    GALATEA 

from  the  Poet's  incautious  hand,  struck  Wil- 
liam forcibly  upon  his  most  honored  feature, 
the  situation  became  grave.  Stopping  only  to 
make  one  grimace  of  anguish,  partly  physical 
but  mainly  of  his  outraged  soul,  he  ran  to  the 
west  gable,  leaped  down  upon  the  water-tank, 
thence  to  the  woodshed  roof,  and  from  there 
one  leap  landed  him  on  the  ground.  Measur- 
ing with  his  inflamed  and  malevolent  eye  his 
distance  from  the  Poet,  he  began  backing 
slowly,  with  portent  that  could  not  be  misun- 
derstood. 

"  O  George,  he 's  going  to  butt  you  !  " 
screamed  Galatea.  "  Sit  down  !  sit  down  ! " 

But  the  Poet  stood  gazing  at  William  like 
one  fascinated.  Having  backed  to  a  distance 
satisfactory  to  his  nice  discrimination  in  such 
matters,  the  goat  lowered  his  nose  and  launched 
himself  forward  straight  as  an  arrow  aimed 
for  the  lank,  concave  surface  which  indicated 
...26-.. 


THE  TWO-LEGGED  PARTNERS 

the  Poet's  stomachic  region.  Perhaps  it  was 
the  goat's  waning  enthusiasm  over  a  mark  so 
little  inviting, — at  any  rate  the  impact  of  his 
horns  was  only  sufficient  to  cause  the  Poet  to 
sit  down  with  promptness. 

"  O  George,  did  he  hurt  you  ? "  asked  Gal- 
atea anxiously.  "  I  told  you  to  sit  down." 

"  I  believe  I  took  your  advice,  Galatea,"  said 
the  Poet,  looking  about  him  in  a  dazed  manner. 

The  goat  was  slowly  backing  again.  There 
was  a  look  in  his  eye  which  said  more  plainly 
than  words :  — 

"  Perchance  you  've  had  enough  ?  If  not, 
there  's  more  where  that  came  from." 

"Don't  get  up,  George,"  said  Galatea. 
"  Don't  move.  Sit  where  you  are  and  he  '11 
go  away." 

"  I  Jve  no  intention  of  getting  up,"  answered 
the  Poet.  "I'm  perfectly  comfortable  where 
I  am,  thank  you.  Besides,  I  'm  not  one  of  those 

...27... 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 

low-spirited,  truckling  persons  who  insist  on 
standing  in  the  presence  of  a  superior." 

The  cow,  the  bull-calf,  the  pig  in  his  ruffle, 
and  the  colt  looking  out  of  the  kitchen  window, 
were  regarding  the  spectacle  with  evident  sat- 
isfaction. The  goat,  as  though  satisfied  that  his 
wounded  honor  had  been  sufficiently  avenged, 
began  slowly  consuming  one  of  the  white  gar- 
ments bleaching  on  the  grass. 

In  her  excitement  Galatea's  hat  had  escaped 
from  its  fastening  and  fallen  to  the  ground. 
Just  now  the  sun  shone  through  the  branches 
of  an  old  cherry  tree,  converting  her  loosened 
coils  of  dark  red  hair  into  a  scarlet  taunt  which 
the  bull-calf  could  not  ignore.  With  hind-legs 
wide  apart,  because  of  the  peach-basket,  he  was 
pawing  the  earth  with  his  forefeet  and  uttering 
adolescent  bellows  of  rage. 

"  Do  you  think,  dear,  that  he  means  me  ? " 
asked  the  girl  anxiously,  starting  to  rise. 
...28--. 


THE  TWO-LEGGED  PARTNERS 

"  Yes,  dear,  it 's  your  turn,"  replied  the  Poet 
complacently. 

"  But  I'm  —  I'm  sitting  down." 
"  It 's  that  red  badge   of  provocation  you 
carry  about  under  your  hat,  Galatea.   Why  in 
thunder  did  you  take  it  off?  Look  out !  He's 
coming !  " 

The  Poet  rose,  intending  to  intercept  the 
bull-calf,  whose  progress  was  somewhat  im- 
peded by  the  peach-basket ;  but,  noticing  the 
goat  backing  away  for  another  assault,  he  sat 
down  again. 

"  Quick,  Galatea  !  The  cherry  tree  ! " 
There  was  a  comfortable  branch  at  about 
the  height  of  a  man's  shoulder,  with  a  wooden 
bench  under  it.   With  the  bellowing  bull-calf 
close  at  her  heels,  Galatea  ran  to  the  bench  and 
—  not  without  a  generous  display  of  striped 
hose  —  swung  herself  up  to  the  branch,  leaving 
the  enemy  pawing  the  earth  innocuously  below. 
...29.-. 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 

"  Galatea,"  remarked  the  Poet  solemnly,  "  I 
always  said  that  those  striped  ones  of  yours 
were  unlucky.  Do  you  remember  ? " 

"  Shut  up,  George !  "  Galatea  tucked  her 
little  boots  under  her  on  the  branch,  smoothed 
out  her  walking-skirt,  and  leaned  against  the 
trunk  of  the  tree  with  the  manner  of  a  young 
lady  accustomed  to  the  usages  of  the  very  best 
society.  George  had  the  indecency  to  laugh. 

"  George,  if  I  were  a  full-grown  man  I 
would  n't  sit  on  the  grass  the  whole  afternoon 
just  because  of  a  poor,  innocent  little  billy- 
goat." 

"  Galatea,  if  I  were  a  perfectly  proper,  highly 
educated  and  accomplished  young  lady  just  out 
of  Vassar,  I  would  n't  roost  in  a  cherry  tree  just 
because  of  an  innocently  inquiring  bull-calf." 

Then  they  both  laughed. 

Just  then  the  colt  whinnied  long  and  joy- 
ously. 

...30-.. 


THE  TWO-LEGGED  PARTNERS 

"  Giddap,"  sounded  a  voice  from  the 
road. 

A  sleek-coated  young  bull-terrier,  very  much 
alert,  bounded  down  the  path  and  stopped  sud- 
denly, as  though  divided  between  astonishment 
and  indignation  at  the  sight  of  the  cow  in  the 
tulip-bed. 

"  That  must  be  Napoleon,"  said  Galatea. 
"  Gabriel  is  returning." 

A  spring-wagon,  loaded  with  trunks  and 
boxes,  and  drawn  by  an  extremely  well-fed  bay 
mare,  whose  driver,  stoop-shouldered  and  sun- 
burnt, perspired  uncomfortably  in  his  Sunday 
clothes,  came  into  view  on  the  driveway  be- 
yond the  cherry  tree,  and  stopped. 

"How  do  you  do,  Gabriel?"  said  Galatea, 
smiling  upon  him  from  the  cherry  tree. 

"  Pleased  to  meet  you,  Gabriel,"  said  the 
Poet  affably,  from  his  seat  on  the  grass. 

For  at  least  a  minute  the  man  in  the  wagon 
...31... 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 

gazed  upon  the  scene  in  silence,  slowly  open- 
ing and  closing  his  mouth.  Then  he  jumped 
down,  remarking :  — 

"  Jumpin'  Jehosephat !  Sic'em,  Napoleon  !  " 

The  terrier  jumped  for  Mrs.  Cowslip's  nose. 
She  rose  from  the  tulip-bed,  but  stood  at  bay. 
There  was  a  great  clatter  of  hoofs  in  the 
kitchen,  and  the  colt  ran  out  through  the  open 
door  and  began  kicking  up  his  heels  gleefully 
under  his  mother's  nose.  The  bull-calf,  the 
goat,  and  the  pig  arrayed  themselves,  as  for  an 
argument,  beside  the  cow. 

"  Amanda !  "  bawled  Gabriel.  And  then  to 
the  Poet :  "  Be  you  folks  hurt,  or  only  skeered  ? 
I  must  a*  missed  ye,  waitin'  for  t'other 
train." 

"  We  're  only  scared,  I  think,"  answered  the 
Poet,  rising  cautiously,  with  one  eye  on  the  goat. 
Galatea  slid  down  from  her  perch  and  joined 
them. 

...32... 


THE  TWO-LEGGED  PARTNERS 

"  Darn  the  critters  ! "  said  Gabriel.  "  It 's  all 
Amanda's  fault.  Of  course  she  had  to  go  trap- 
sin'  off  somewhere.  Amanda  !  O  Amanda  !  " 

Amanda  appeared  in  the  edge  of  the  orch- 
ard, with  a  tin  pail  in  her  hand,  indicating  with 
a  wave  of  her  apron  that  she  was  coming  as  fast 
as  she  could  with  her  heaping  pail  of  straw- 
berries. 

"  I  locked  'em  up,"  said  Gabriel.  "  But,  laws, 
Jt  aint  no  use  lockin'  up  critters  edicated  by  a 
college  perfessor." 

"  Fer  th'  land  sakes ! "  ejaculated  Amanda, 
arriving  breathlessly  and  taking  in  the  whole 
scene  at  a  glance. 

The  pig  went  up  to  her,  grunting  amiably  in 
his  white  ruffle. 

"  You  shameless  critter  ! "  said  Amanda,  with 
her  face  aflame,  as  she  tore  the  indecorous  gar- 
ment from  Reginald's  neck. 

"Ha!  ha!  ho!  ho!  ho  1 "  laughed  Gabriel. 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 

**  Serves  ye  right,  Amanda,  for  goin'  off 
an'  leavin'  edicated  critters  loose  around  th' 
house." 

"  Shoo !  "  said  Amanda,  waving  her  apron  at 
Mrs.  Cowslip,  who  merely  gave  her  a  mild  look 
of  reproach. 

"  Git  back  to  th'  barn,  all  of  ye,"  com- 
manded Gabriel,  with  no  better  result. 

"Say  it,  Gabe,"  said  Amanda,  stamping  her 
foot. 

"No,"  answered  Gabriel,  "I  mustn't.  It 
keeps  their  feelin's  hurt  for  a  hull  day.  Th' 
Perfessor  would  n't  like  it." 

"  I  don't  care,  Gabe,  you  jest  say  it." 

"  Say  what  ? "  asked  the  Poet,  overcome  with 
curiosity. 

"  W'y,"  explained  Gabriel,  "ye  see,  it 's  th' 
Perfessor's  idee  that  these  critters  are  jest  as 
good  as  he  is.  Ekel  rights  for  man  an'  beast, 
he  calls  it.  You  bet  they're  willin',  consarn 


THE  TWO-LEGGED  PARTNERS 


'em !  It 's  only  when  they  want  to  run  th'  hull 
place  that  he  resorts  to  extreme  measures,  as  he 
says.  Then  he  shouts  a  queer,  heathen  word  at 
'em,  an'  they  sneak  off  like  a  dog  caught  suckin' 

eggs." 

Out  of  regard  for  the  Professor's  feelings 
Gabriel  proceeded  with  such  comparatively 
mild  measures  as  flicking  Mrs.  Cowslip  with 
his  whip,  and  trying  ineffectually  to  push  the 
bull-calf  toward  the  barn.  The  colt  danced 
about,  nipping  at  him  with  bared  teeth.  But  it 
was  Reginald  who  brought  things  to  a  climax. 
The  pig,  escaping  the  teeth  of  the  terrier,  ran 
between  Gabriel's  legs,  sending  him  sprawling 
on  his  back. 

"Say  it,  Gabe,"  called  out  Amanda. 

"You  bet  I  '11  say  it!"  Gabriel  replied,  ris- 
ing and  confronting  the  four-footed  mutineers, 
now  grouped  as  though  conscious  that  they 
had  carried  matters  a  trifle  too  far.  Throwing 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 

out  his  chest,  Gabriel  thundered  the  single 
word :  — 

"ABRACADABRA!" 

The  effect  was  magical.  The  Poet  and  his 
sister  could  hardly  believe  their  eyes.  Instantly, 
with  head  drooping  in  the  most  dejected  man- 
ner, the  colt  started  toward  the  barn,  followed 
by  Mrs.  Cowslip  and  the  bull-calf,  their  tails 
now  drooping  and  sorrowful.  Next  went  the 
goat  with  conscience-smitten  mien,  and  at  the 
end  of  the  melancholy  file  was  the  pig,  squeal- 
ing plaintively,  all  the  kink  out  of  his  tail. 

"Wait  a  bit, this  won't  do  at  all! "  suddenly 
exclaimed  the  Poet,  with  more  excitement  in 
his  voice  than  his  sister  had  ever  before  noted. 

"Do  ye  want  to  be  a  friend  to  th'  critters?" 
inquired  Gabriel. 

"I  'm  going  to  be  a  brother  to  them,"  said 
the  Poet. 

"  And  I  'm  going  to  be  a  sister  to  them,  poor 


THE  TWO-LEGGED  PARTNERS 

things!"  said  Galatea.  "Didn't  the  Professor 
have  some  word  with  which  he  expressed  his 
forgiveness,  and  his  love,  with  a  gentle  reproof 
and  warning  to  be  more  careful  in  the  future?'* 
she  added,  looking  at  Gabriel  with  soft  appeal 
in  her  eyes. 

"  Sartin5,  sartin'."  Gabriel  scratched  his  head. 
"I  can't  jest  remember.  It  begun  the  same, 
with  a-b  ab  —  " 

"Of  course,"  broke  in  the  Poet.  "  The  can- 
onical form  of  pronouncing  absolution." 

He  ran  after  the  delinquents,  calling  them 
by  name :  "  O  Mrs.  Cowslip !  Clarence !  Gus- 
tavius!  William!  Reginald!" 

They  stopped  and  looked  back  penitently. 
Galatea  ran  to  her  brother's  side.  He  held  out 
his  hands  and  cried:  — 

"ABSOLVO!" 

"Absolvo,  absolvo!"  echoed  Galatea. 

Cheerfully,  but  with  subdued  spirits,  Bos, 
••-37'" 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 

Equus  and  Co.  gathered  about  their  new  friends, 
accepting  their  forgiveness  with  various  tokens 
of  gratitude.  The  pig  lay  down  at  Gala- 
tea's feet,  grunting  contentedly,  while  the  colt 
brushed  her  cheek  with  his  velvet  muzzle. 
The  Poet  felt  a  warm  nose  in  his  hand,  and 
was  not  amazed  to  find  it  was  his  late  enemy's, 
the  goat's.' 

"Well,  darn  my  skin!"  said  Gabriel. 

"Galatea,  I  think  we  shall  do  very  well  — 
very  well  indeed,"  said  the  Poet. 


WARNING  TO  THE  HORSELESS 

II 

Fair  Warning  to  the  Horseless 

EATED  on  the  veranda,  in  a 
low  lawn-chair  which  caused 
his  long  shanks  to  thrust  his 
angular  knees  up  to  the  level  of 
his  chin,  the  Poet  was  perusing 
the  Odes  of  Horace  in  the  original  text,  and 
pencilling  their  English  equivalent  on  the  leaves 
of  a  small  writing-pad.  His  handwriting  was 
large  and  careless.  Every  minute  or  two  he  tore 
a  filled  sheet  from  the  pad  and  dropped  it  on 
the  edge  of  the  veranda  floor  at  his  side.  A 
straggling  honeysuckle  vine  concealed  from 
him  the  fact  that  William  was  present,  and  that, 
as  each  sheet  fell  to  the  floor,  the  goat  was  con- 
suming it  with  every  evidence  of  appreciation. 


GAMBOLLING   WITH    GALATEA 

Probably  never  before  had  a  translation  of  Hor- 
ace met  with  such  instant  success. 

But  presently  William,  becoming  impatient 
at  the  Poet's  deliberation,  seized  a  sheet  out  of 
his  hand  and  stood  detected.  At  the  same  in- 
stant a  musical  peal  of  laughter  from  the  open 
window  of  the  breakfast  room  proved  that  the 
Poet's  sister  had  been  a  delighted  witness  of 
the  disaster.  After  one  startled  look  about  him, 
the  Poet  realized  that  the  goat's  attentions  had 
been  indeed  thorough.  He  had  recourse  to  his 
customary  whimsical  philosophy. 

"Galatea,"  said  the  Poet  gravely,  "do  you 
observe  that  the  whole  of  my  manuscript  has 
been  accepted  without  reading  ?  That  is  the 
highest  compliment  possible  to  pay  a  poet." 

"  And  yet  you  hear  it  everywhere  that  the 
classic  poets  are  not  appreciated  nowadays." 

The  girl,  still  laughing,  joined  her  brother 
on  the  veranda.  She  was  all  in  pink  —  fluffy 
...40-.. 


WARNING  TO  THE  HORSELESS 

pink,  with  a  fluffy  pink  thing  flapping  above  her 
mahogany  tresses,  producing  an  effect  impos- 
sible to  describe,  fatal  to  another  woman,  in 
her  case  charming.  The  goat  put  his  forefeet 
on  the  veranda  and  seemed  to  nod  his  approval. 

"William,"  said  the  Poet,  "you  have  given 
me  an  idea  ^an  idea  which  may  influence  my 
whole  career." 

"  Why  not  ? ' '  commented  Galatea.  "  Have  n't 
you  and  I  been  duly  initiated  as  members  of 
the  firm  of  Bos,  Equus  and  Co.  ?  Are  n't  all  our 
interests  mutual  ? "  And  again  she  laughed. 

"  I  have  long  been  undecided,"  resumed  the 
Poet,  "as  to  whether  my  muse  is  classical  and 
for  the  few,  or  modern  and  for  the  many;  or, 
indeed,  whether  I  should  not  give  up  poetry  for 
the  plough.  William,  it  shall  be  for  you  to  de- 
cide. I  will  now  compose  something  for  the 
masses.  If  you  accept  it  instantly,  as  you  have 
accepted  my  Horatian  Odes  —  not  for  publi- 
...41... 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 

cation,  it  is  true,  but  —  er  —  but  for  purposes 
best  known  to  yourself,  I  shall  at  once  take 
steps  to  become  an  honest  husbandman.  If, 
however,  you  decline  what  I  am  about  to  offer 
you,  I  shall  consider  myself  a  properly  ordained 
Poet  of  the  People,  and  shall  act  accordingly. 
William,  a  grave  responsibility  rests  upon  your 
discrimination." 

The  goat  nodded  with  an  intelligent  expres- 
sion, his  venerable  beard  sweeping  the  floor. 

"O  George,  how  perfectly  absurd!  "  laughed 
Galatea. 

The  Poet  scribbled  on  his  pad  for  a  couple 
of  minutes,  tore  off  the  sheet,  and  offered  it  to 
William.  The  goat  sniffed  at  it,  and  appeared 
doubtful. 

"You  are  quite  right,  William.  Others  have 
found  my  handwriting  illegible.  I  will  read  it 
to  you." 

The  Poet  read:  — 

...42-.. 


WARNING  TO  THE  HORSELESS 

"  Sir  Mortimer's  poems  of  note 
Were  despised  by  his  lady's  pet  goat. 

The  goat  said,  *  Oh  pschutt ! ' 

And  proceeded  to  butt 
Sir  Mortimer  into  the  moat." 

"Now,  William,  it's  up  to  you,"  said  the 
Poet,  as  his  sister,  regardless  of  her  fluffy  pink 
finery,  sat  down  on  the  floor  and  shrieked. 

But  already  the  goat,  looking  deeply  embar- 
rassed, was  trotting  off  toward  the  barn. 

"That  settles  it,"  said  the  Poet  solemnly. 
"I  am  ordained  Poet  of  the  People." 

Galatea  got  up,  gurgling,  and  rested  her 
flushed  cheek  on  her  brother's  collar. 

"George,  you 're  the  most  delicious  old  thing 
ever  created." 

He  held  her  off,  regarding  her  curiously. 

"All  in  pink?  Nothing  like  pink  to  show 
dirt.  Wherefore  all  this  regardlessness  of  ex- 
pense, Galatea?" 

...43... 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 

She  took  a  letter  from  her  bosom  and  gave 
it  to  him. 

"  It 's  from  Arthur.  It  came  in  the  morning 
mail.  I  didn't  want  to  disturb  you — and  Wil- 
liam—  in  your  literary  labors.  You'd  better 
read  it  now." 

The  Poet  read :  — 

"'I'm  taking  a  little  spin  out  your  way  in  my 
new  Red  Ripper.  Will  reach  your  place  about 
noon.  If  you  've  nothing  else  to  do,  we  can 
have  a  whirl  down  the  old  Post  Road  and  back 
before  two  o'clock.  Then  I  must  be  off  to 
Stamford  on  an  important  engagement  about  a 
portrait — in  fact,  it  means  the  price  of  this 
modest  luxury  on  wheels.  But  do  give  me  the 
two  hours.  Think  what  poetic  wonders  George 
may  accomplish  in  that  time,  undistracted  by 
your  luminous  presence.' ' 

"'Luminous  presence'  isn't  bad,"  com- 
mented the  Poet.  "That  is,  for  Arthur.  Don't 
...44... 


THE    GOAT    SEEMED    TO    NOD    HIS    APPROVAL 


WARNING  TO  THE  HORSELESS 

you  give  him  any  of  your  impudence,  Galatea. 
We  can't  afford  to  quarrel  with  people  who 
can  own  Red  Rippers/' 

"Rubbish,  George.  Arthur  is  sometimes 
very  trying.  He  is  n't  half  as  handsome  as  he 
thinks  he  is." 

"But  you  are,  Galatea.  Be  charitable.  You 
could  do  much  worse  than  go  through  life  in 
— in  a  Red  Ripper.  Noon,  did  you  say  ? " 

The  Poet  looked  at  his  watch.  "  Why,  it 's 
eleven-forty  already.  Hello  !  What 's  the  mat- 
ter with  our  four-legged  partners?" 

Cleopatra,  with  Clarence  at  her  side,  had 
galloped  up  the  driveway  from  the  bottom  of 
the  pasture,  and  stopped,  with  head  up,  snort- 
ing loudly  at  something  down  the  road.  The 
colt  could  not  snort  as  loudly  as  his  mother, 
but  he  made  up  by  snorting  twice  as  often. 
Mrs.  Cowslip  and  Gustavius,  the  bull-calf,  quite 
in  the  dark  as  to  the  cause  of  the  excitement, 
...45... 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 

but  willing  to  become  excited  themselves,  were 
stopping  en  route  to  snatch  an  occasional 
mouthful  of  grass.  Reginald's  short  legs  were 
flying  in  the  distance,  while  he  uttered  plaint- 
ive squeaks  at  being  left  behind.  The  goat  was 
giving  him  the  assistance  of  an  occasional  butt 
in  the  right  direction.  Napoleon,  rudely  awak- 
ened out  of  a  deep  dream  of  peace,  barked 
wildly  from  the  edge  of  the  veranda.  Amanda 
came  out  of  the  kitchen,  wiping  her  hands  on 
her  apron. 

"For  the  land  sakes,  what  ails  the  critters  ?" 
she  asked  of  Gabriel,  who  had  run  up  from  the 
potato-patch,  armed  with  his  hoe. 

Gabriel  ran  to  the  side  of  the  colt,  glanced 
down  the  road,  and  came  back  laughing. 

"  It 's  one  of  them  there  hossless  buggies," 
he  said.  "  The  mare  never  could  stand  the 
sight  of  'em,  and  the  colt  takes  after  her.  They 
take  it  as  a  personal  insult  for  a  buggy  to  go 


WARNING  TO  THE  HORSELESS 

humpin'  along  like  that  without  a  hoss  to  pull 
it." 

"It's  Arthur,"  said  Galatea.  "He's  made 
better  time  than  he  expected  to,  and  he  '11  be 
unbearable." 

The  whirr  of  the  wheels  was  now  audible. 
Cleopatra  and  Clarence,  with  a  final  snort  of 
rage,  put  their  heads  between  their  forelegs, 
slashed  out  vindictively  behind,  and  galloped 
off  to  the  far  side  of  the  driveway.  The  Red 
Ripper  turned  in  swiftly  from  the  road,  giving 
Mrs.  Cowslip  the  fright  of  her  life  as  she 
plunged,  bellowing,  to  the  rear  of  her  defiant 
equine  comrades.  At  sight  of  the  shining  red 
enamel,  Gustavius,  for  one  instant,  contem- 
plated a  valiant  charge,  but  thought  better  of 
it  barely  in  time  to  save  his  skin,  if  not  his 
dignity. 

As  though  to  make  the  affront  beyond  all 
forgiveness,  the  driver  of  the  red  thing  steered 
...47... 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 

straight  on  toward  the  barn,  then,  describing  a 
graceful  circle  about  his  outraged  spectators, 
returned  and  came  to  an  abrupt  halt  near  the 
gateway.  He  lifted  his  cap  to  Galatea  with  easy 
grace,  and  jumped  from  his  seat  to  take  the 
Poet's  outstretched  hand. 

"  Good  boy.  You  did  that  with  almost  hu- 
man intelligence."  The  Poet's  eyes  twinkled 
—  the  nearest  approach  to  a  smile  in  which  he 
had  ever  been  known  to  indulge. 

"  Yes ;  rather  neat,  I  call  it.  Is  n't  she  a 
beauty  ?  Only  two  tons  weight  and  forty  horse- 
power ;  maximum  of  sixty-nine  miles  an  hour 
on  a  level  road ;  climbs  hills  like  a  goat ;  the 
only  sparking  device  that  never  hitches  —  " 

"  Kind  to  women  and  children  and  stands 
without  hitchin',"  drawled  the  Poet. 

"Quit  your  kidding,  George,"  and  then,  at 
a  loud  snort  from  Cleopatra  :  "  I  say,  George, 
who  're  your  friends  ?" 


WARNING  TO  THE  HORSELESS 

"  Including  Galatea  and  myself,  they  're  Bos, 
Equus  and  Co." 

"  Oh,  freedom  of  the  place  —  part  of  the 
family,  eh  ?  You  're  a  queer  chap,  George.  They 
don't  seem  quite  friendly.  I  hate  to  break  up  a 
happy  home,  you  know." 

"It  does  look  like  it,  Arthur.  The  mare 
can't  bear  the  sight  of  a  vehicle  that  is  inde- 
pendent of  her  services.  The  bull-calf  resents 
its  brilliant  color.  Besides,  they  all  hang  to- 
gether on  general  principles.  However,  Gala- 
tea and  I  still  retain  a  few  of  our  characteristics 
unchanged  by  these  associations.  We  forgive 
you." 

Gabriel  and  Amanda  returned  to  their  duties 
in  potato-patch  and  kitchen.  The  Poet  went 
into  the  house,  leaving  the  Artist  with  Galatea 
on  the  veranda.  She  had  given  him  her  hand 
with  a  bewildering  smile,  but  as  he  immediately 
began  to  chatter  interminably  about  his  auto- 
...49... 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 

mobile  and  the  great  things  he  was  going  to  do 
in  the  way  of  speed,  her  red  lips  shaped  them- 
selves into  a  curl  that  was  not  so  pleasant,  and 
if  he  had  noticed  the  satirical  little  side  glances 
she  gave  him  now  and  then,  his  tone  would 
have  been  much  less  complacent. 

The  Artist  was  really  an  excellent  fellow, 
stalwart,  straight-limbed,  and  undeniably  hand- 
some. His  type  originated  with  the  new  gener- 
ation of  popular  fiction  illustrators.  You  would 
instantly  recognize  his  smooth-shaven  face,  his 
straight  nose,  and  his  determined  chin  for  those 
of  the  plain  American  young  hero  who  walks 
unconcernedly  into  the  boudoir  of  the  Crown 
Princess  of  Grossbock  (who  falls  desperately 
in  love  with  him  at  first  sight),  and  presently 
rescues  her  from  the  very  foot  of  the  throne, 
dashing  with  her  in  his  arms  through  a  whole 
regiment  of  Hussars,  without  turning  a  hair. 
It  was  not  to  be  expected  that  such  a  hero 
...50-.. 


WARNING  TO  THE  HORSELESS 

would  remain  sacred  to  the  romances  over 
which  little  girls  weep  tears  of  joy  and  longing. 
The  daughter  of  Isaac  Ickleheimer  called  her 
father's  attention  to  him  one  day,  and  ever  since 
then  he  has  adorned  the  advertising  pages  of 
the  magazines,  attired  in  the  most  lovely  ready- 
to-wear  clothes,  with  shoulders  more  than  hu- 
man. 

But  the  Artist  could  n't  help  this,  any  more 
than  he  could  help  chattering  about  his  new 
automobile  to  a  girl  who  was  dying  to  have 
soft  nothings  whispered  in  her  ear.  After  a 
while  Galatea,  realizing  that  such  hopes  were 
doomed  to  disappointment  for  the  present, 
abruptly  choked  off  the  dissertation  on  Red 
Rippers  by  dragging  the  Artist  in  to  luncheon. 

With  the  human  element  thus  eliminated, 
now  occurred  one  of  those  scenes  which  gave 
to  the  present  chronicler  his  chief  inspiration. 

The  red  thing  being  quiescent,  Cleopatra  and 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 

Clarence  had  ceased  their  snorting  and  were 
approaching  cautiously,  with  occasional  coy 
side-prancings,  yet  with  a  curiosity  in  their  eyes 
that  was  not  unmixed  with  vindictiveness.  Mrs. 
Cowslip  and  Gustavius  grazed  near  by,  with  one 
eye  open  to  developments.  William  surveyed 
the  red  thing  speculatively,  evidently  wonder- 
ing whether  it  offered  a  profitable  opportunity 
for  butting,  while  Reginald,  the  pig,  less  im- 
aginative than  the  others,  rubbed  one  of  his  fat 
sides  tentatively  against  a  rubber  tire. 

"Not  so  bad,"  grunted  Reginald.  "A  bit 
too  smooth,  that  'sail;  don't  seem  to  take  hold 
like  the  Professor's  finger-nails  —  " 

"  Look  at  that  fool  pig,"  whinnied  Clarence 
to  his  mother.  "  Reginald  has  no  dignity.  I 
would  n't  demean  myself  by  such  condescen- 
sion to  an  enemy  with  such  a  vile-smelling 
breath." 

"That  proves  that  the  thing  is  really  alive," 


WARNING  TO  THE  HORSELESS 

commented  Cleopatra.  "It's  eaten  something 
that  don't  agree  with  it." 

"It's  breath  smells  just  like  Gabe's  lantern 
when  he  's  late  with  his  work  in  the  barn," 
said  Mrs.  Cowslip,  coming  up,  with  Gustavius 
by  her  side,  shaking  his  sharp  sprouts  of  horns 
truculently. 

The  pig  braced  himself  against  a  corner  of 
the  metal  framework  in  front,  and  grunted 
with  more  unction  :  — 

"Ah!  this  is  better." 

"Why  don't  the  thing  show  signs  of  life?" 
complained  Cleopatra.  "  Then  I  'd  know 
where  to  plant  my  heels.  It  was  lively  enough 
a  little  while  ago." 

Gustavius,  with  calf-like  bellows  of  provo- 
cation, was  exercising  his  sharp  little  horns  on 
one  of  the  rubber  tires. 

"Why  should  you  be  so  incensed  against 
such  a  lumbering  old  thing  ? "  asked  Mrs.  Cow- 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 

slip,  with  a  placid  glance  at  the  mare.  "Seems 
to  me  you  ought  to  be  grateful  to  any  sort  of 
wagon  that  would  leave  you  free  to  enjoy  your- 
self." 

"  Trust  an  old  cow  not  to  see  an  inch  be- 
yond her  own  nose,"  snorted  Cleopatra  con- 
temptuously. "  Do  you  suppose  I  'd  be  wel- 
come in  this  family  if  I  was  n't  useful  ?  There 's 
nothing  for  me  to  do  except  pull  the  buggy, 
or  Gabe's  wagon.  Why,  even  that  delightful 
red-headed  girl,  who  always  has  sugar  in  her 
pocket,  helps  Amanda  in  the  garden." 

"  True,"  admitted  Mrs.  Cowslip.  "  And  I 
give  milk." 

"Lucky  for  you,"  said  Cleopatra  signifi- 
cantly. "When  I  think  of  my  Clarence  and 
your  Gustavius,  I  tremble." 

Mrs.  Cowslip  looked  startled.  "  What  do 
you  mean,  Cleopatra?" 

"  I  don't  want  to  alarm  you,  my  dear,  but  I 
...54... 


WARNING  TO  THE  HORSELESS 

can't  forget  that  day  when  Gabe  got  into  the 
calf's  pen  with  a  sharp  knife  in  his  hand." 

"  I  've  heard  of  such  calamities  to  my  race," 
whimpered  Mrs.  Cowslip,  her  moist  nose  turn- 
ing pale ;  "  but  it  never  occurred  to  me  that 
a  child  of  mine  —  " 

"  It  was  Amanda  who  dragged  Gabe  and  his 
knife  away,"  continued  Cleopatra.  "  Her  words 
ring  in  my  ears  yet.  She  said :  *  O  Gabe,  wait 
till  he  's  older  and  we  can  roast  him.  I  do  love 
roast  beef;  that's  what  Amanda  said." 

Mrs.  Cowslip  sidled  affectionately  up  to  Gus- 
tavius,  who  was  still  worrying  the  rubber  tire 
with  his  sharp  sprouts  of  horns,  and  licked  his 
cheek  tenderly. 

"  Don't  bother  me,  mother,"  said  the 
thoughtless  bull-calf.  •'<  I  feel  that  I  'm  making 
an  impression  on  this  thing." 

"  If  you  do,"  said  Cleopatra,  "and  it  shows 
signs  of  life,  just  you  watch  me,  that's  all  "  ; 
...55... 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 

and,  laying  back  her  ears,  she  experimented 
with  her  heels  to  be  sure  that  they  were  in 
good  working  order. 

"  Me,  too,"  said  Clarence,  following  his 
mother's  example  with  a  significance  not  to  be 
misunderstood. 

"  If  you  're  really  making  an  impression," 
bleated  William  to  Gustavius,  backing  away 
and  shaking  his  horns,  "one  good,  swift  butt 
ought  to  do  the  business." 

Gustavius  moved  his  hind  quarters  to  one 
side,  and  bored  away  with  one  horn  as  hard  as 
he  could. 

"  Clear  the  track,"  bleated  the  goat ;  "  I  'm 
coming !  " 

On  came  William  with  a  rush  that  aston- 
ished even  himself.  The  last  leap  was  twelve 
good  feet  in  mid-air.  With  his  neck  stiffened 
like  a  rod  of  steel,  the  roots  of  his  horns  struck 
the  rubber  tire  squarely  just  below  the  boring 


WARNING  TO  THE  HORSELESS 

sprout  of  Gustavius.  There  was  an  explosion 
and  a  fierce  puffof  something  in  their  faces  that 
sent  both  the  goat  and  the  bull-calf  back  on 
their  haunches. 

"  It 's  alive !  It 's  alive  ! "  shrieked  Cleopatra, 
as  she  wheeled  about,  filled  with  the  joy  of 
battle. 

Lashing  out  with  her  heels  at  the  red  thing 
amidships,  the  mare's  heels  clattered  among 
the  driving-levers  most  ominously.  Clarence's 
heels,  being  out  of  range  in  his  excitement,  did 
no  damage.  They  looked  around,  snorting, 
awaiting  the  enemy's  retort.  To  their  surprise 
the  red  thing  remained  motionless. 

"Pshaw!"  exclaimed  Cleopatra,  "what's 
the  use  of  attacking  such  a  spiritless  creature, 
anyway?" 

"In  my  opinion  you  've  killed  it,"  said  Mrs. 
Cowslip.  "  I  never  saw  such  a  smash  in  my 
life." 

...57... 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 

"It  was  I  who  finished  the  thing,"  boasted 
Gustavius,  finding  himself  unhurt.  "  I  felt  its 
last  breath  in  my  face." 

William  turned  away  in  disgust. 

The  pig,  engrossed  with  his  own  selfish  pur- 
suit of  new  dermatological  sensations,  had  been 
only  momentarily  disturbed  by  these  events. 
He  felt  that  something  was  lacking. 

"  If  I  could  only  get  my  back  under  some- 
thing," he  complained.  "I  wonder  if  it's  safe 
to  crawl  under  the  thing?" 

Reginald  investigated,  and  was  interested. 
"  There  's  a  lot  of  little  jiggers  under  there  that 
look  as  though  they  'd  just  fit  my  back." 

He  got  down  on  his  fore-knees  and  wriggled 
under  the  red  thing,  grunting,  while  the  others 
still  debated  together  on  ways  and  means. 

During  luncheon  Galatea's  mood  had  soft- 
ened. She  was  no  longer  piqued  at  the  Artist's 
detailed  accounts  of  the  wonders  of  his  new  au- 


WARNING  TO  THE  HORSELESS 

tomobile.  Arthur,  in  a  moment  of  intelligence, 
had  squeezed  her  hand  under  the  table. 

"  In  case  of  a  break-down  of  any  kind,"  ob- 
served the  Poet,  "  I  suppose  you  carry  all  sorts 
of  tools  and  materials  for  repairs  ? " 

"  I  never  give  the  matter  a  thought,"  said  the 
Artist.  "  She  's  such  a  perfect  piece  of  mechan- 
ism that  she  can't  break  down." 

"  But  suppose  you  should  run  over  a  pig,  or 
a  cow,  and  —  " 

"  Oh,  in  that  case  I  dare  say  the  tool  box 
might  come  handy." 

"  Or  punctured  a  tire  ?  " 

"  The  Red  Ripper's  tires  are  warranted  punc- 
ture-proof" ;  and  the  Artist  entered  into  a  long 
technical  description  of  the  new  and  improved 
process  which  had  produced  the  Red  Ripper's 
impregnable  tires.  Galatea  sighed  several  times, 
but  it  was  useless. 

"  After  all,"  drawled  the  Poet  at  the  first 
...59... 


GAMBOLLING   WITH    GALATEA 

opening  caused  by  a  fish-bone  sticking  in  the 
Artist's  throat,  "  you  can't  make  a  sympathetic 
companion  of  an  automobile  as  you  can  of  a 
horse.  Why,  Galatea  and  I  have  the  most  im- 
proving conversations  with  Cleopatra  and  the 

Pig-" 

"  Yes,"   chimed  in  Galatea  eagerly,  "  even 

Gustavius,  the  bull-calf,  understands  everything 
we  say  to  him.  It  all  proves  the  Professor's 
theory  that  we  don't  give  these  domestic  pets 
half  the  credit  they  deserve  for  intelligent  and 
affectionate  interest  in  us  and  our  affairs." 

"  I  've  heard  of  your  Professor  and  his  crazy 
theories  about  animals,"  said  the  Artist,  having 
swallowed  the  fish-bone.  "I  '11  bet  you  do  just 
as  he  did  —  you  keep  your  pockets  full  of  sugar 
for  the  mare,  and  you  scratch  the  pig's  back." 

"Arthur,  you  haven't  the  first  concep- 
tion—" 

"  No,  Arthur,"  broke  in  the  Poet,  seeing  the 
...60-.. 


WARNING  TO  THE  HORSELESS 

fire  in  his  sister's  eyes,  "  you  could  n't  even  see 
that  Cleopatra  was  aware  that  your  Red  Rip- 
per is  a  menace  to  her  means  of  livelihood." 

"  Pooh !  George,  the  mare  is  n't  used  to 
automobiles,  that 's  all." 

The  Artist  looked  at  his  watch.  "  I  think 
we  had  better  be  going,  Galatea ;  I  've  just 
twenty-five  minutes  in  which  to  whirl  you 
thirty  miles  and  back." 

Galatea  disappeared,  and  returned  in  a  mo- 
ment with  her  fluffy  pink  costume,  hat  and  all, 
covered  by  a  hooded  cloak  of  gray  silk  which 
became  her  exceedingly.  The  Artist  put  on  his 
cap  and  gloves.  At  that  instant  a  series  of  heart- 
rending squeals  filled  the  air. 

"  Something  has  happened  to  Reginald  !  " 
exclaimed  the  Poet,  and  his  long  legs  flew  as 
he  rushed  to  the  rescue. 

When  Galatea  and  the  Artist  caught  up  with 
him,  he  was  on  his  stomach  half  under  the 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 

Red  Ripper,  tugging  with  all  his  might  at  one 
of  Reginald's  hind  legs.  The  pig's  squeals  grew 
louder  and  more  hopeless.  Cleopatra,  the  colt, 
the  cow,  the  bull-calf,  and  the  goat,  huddled 
together,  looked  on  from  a  distance  with  ex- 
pressions of  wondering  innocence.  Napoleon 
barked  furiously  at  the  Poet's  waving  legs. 
Gabriel  came  running  up  with  a  fence-rail  on 
his  shoulder.  The  Poet  emerged,  perspiring 
and  baffled. 

"The  critter  's  stuck,  darn  him!  "  said  Ga- 
briel. "We  must  lift  the  machine." 

He  thrust  one  end  of  the  rail  under  the  Red 
Ripper's  frame.  "  Now,  all  together  ! " 

The  Poet  and  the  Artist  joined  Gabriel  with 
their  shoulders  under  the  rail,  the  machine 
rose  an  inch  or  two,  and  Reginald,  choking 
a  final  squeal  in  his  throat,  scrambled  out. 
At  least  three  square  inches  of  his  back  were 
ravished  of  their  bristles.  Not  a  particle  of 

.-62.- 


WARNING  TO  THE  HORSELESS 

kink  remained  in  Reginald's  tail.  Straight  for 
the  barn  he  ran,  emitting  short  grunts  of  relief 
and  contrition. 

"  Great  snakes ! "  exclaimed  the  Artist. 
"  Look  at  that  rear  tire.  There  's  a  hole  in  it 
you  could  throw  a  dog  into." 

Nobody  could  offer  any  explanation,  the  bull- 
calf  having  forgotten  all  about  it.  The  Artist's 
eye  suddenly  lighted  on  the  bent  driving-levers, 
and  for  half  a  minute  his  language  was  far  from 
polite. 

"  I  warned  you  about  Cleopatra,"  said  the 
Poet ;  "but  you  would  n't  give  the  mare  credit 
for  sufficient  intelligence  to  protect  her  personal 
interests." 

"Do  you  think,  Arthur,  that  we  will  be  able 
to  whirl  thirty  miles  and  back  in  twenty-five 
minutes  with  a  flat  tire?"  inquired  Galatea 
innocently. 

"Of  course  you  can,"  said  the  Poet  solemnly. 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 

"The  Red  Ripper  is  such  a  perfect  piece 
of  mechanism  that  she  can  do  it  on  three 
wheels." 

"That's  right,  rub  it  in/'  said  the  Artist. 
"When  I  came  out  here  I  didn't  count  on 
being  hoodooed  by  these  four-legged  friends 
of  yours  that  can  do  everything  but  talk." 

"They  can  talk  too,"  retorted  Galatea  wick- 
edly; "and  they  don't  confine  their  harangues 
to  automobiles,  either." 

The  Artist  winced.  Galatea  had  one  more 
shot  for  him. 

"If  you  positively  must  be  in  Stamford  at 
three  o'clock,  I  'm  sure  Cleopatra  will  be  only 
too  glad  to  oblige  you." 

"The  blacksmith  down  to  the  station  can 
fix  you  up  in  ten  minutes,"  spoke  up  Gabriel. 
"  He  's  a  reg'lar  genius  at  tinkerin*  up  hossless 
buggies." 

"It's  mostly  down-hill  to  the  station,"  said 


WARNING  TO  THE  HORSELESS 

the  Poet ;  "  I  'm  sure  Cleopatra  will  be  charmed 
to  assist  the  Red  Ripper  that  far." 

Galatea  sat  down  on  the  ground  and  laughed. 

"Gosh,  yes,"  said  Gabriel,  starting  for  the 
barn.  "I  '11  go  an'  git  her  harness." 

The  Artist  surrendered.  He  sat  down  beside 
Galatea,  while  the  Poet  looked  the  other  way, 
and  whispered  things  that  made  her  eyes  shine. 

When  Gabriel  reappeared  with  the  harness, 
a  whiffletree  and  a  stout  chain,  Cleopatra's  com- 
plete understanding  of  the  situation  could  not 
be  doubted.  She  thrust  out  her  head  for  the 
collar,  welcomed  the  bridle,  and  before  the 
straps  were  buckled  trotted  proudly  into  posi- 
tion before  the  vehicle,  which  was  now  no  better 
than  an  ordinary  buggy. 

"Isn't  shea  dear?"  said  Galatea. 

"All  aboard;  git  in,"  said  Gabriel.  "Mind 
and  be  careful  about  the  brake  —  it 's  down- 
hill." 

...65.-. 


GAMBOLLING    WITH    GALATEA 

With  a  grimace  the  Artist  placed  himself  in 
the  chauffeur's  seat.  Gabriel  handed  him  the 
reins. 

"I'll  foller  an'  bring  back  the  mare,"  he 
said.  "Giddap,  old  gal." 

^Cleopatra  looked  around,  shook  her  head, 
and  refused  to  budge.  Gabriel  laughed,  and 
looked  at  Galatea. 

"  You  '11  have  to  git  in.  You  can't  fool  the 
mare;  she  sees  you're  dressed  for  drivin'." 

The  Poet,  with  great  gravity,  helped  his  sister 
up  beside  the  Artist.  Galatea  took  the  reins. 
At  her  cheerful,  familiar  chirrup  Cleopatra 
stretched  her  fine  muscles,  and,  while  the  colt 
pranced  about,  kicking  up  his  heels  in  irrepress- 
ible joy  at  this  warning  to  the  horseless,  dragged 
the  ponderous,  vanquished  enemy  into  the  road 
and  away.  Never  before  stepped  a  mare  of  pedi- 
gree so  proudly,  nor  trailed  along  a  Red  Ripper 
so  ignobly. 

...66-.. 


PIG-MALION  AND  GALATEA 

III 

Pig-Malion  and  Galatea 

ALATEA!"   hailed  the  Poet 
from  the  bottom  of  the  stairs. 
"Yes,  George?" 
"There 's  a  letter  from  Ar- 
thur. Come  down." 
"  I  can't,  this  moment.  Je  suis  en  deshabille." 
"I  thought  so;  your  voice  sounds  full  of 
pins.    But  you  don't  need  to  air  your  Vassar 
French.  The  pig  is  n't  listening." 

"  My  French  prose  is  better  than  your  Eng- 
lish verse.  What  does  Arthur  say  ? " 
"He'll  be  out  here  early." 
"What  for?" 

"  Girl,  have  a  care  1  While  you  are  about  it, 
make  the  most  of  the  small  charms  with  which 
the  good  Lord  has  endowed  you." 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 

"  I  will,  brother  mine;  I  'm  expecting  Reg- 
inald to  have  his  back  scratched." 

Truth  to  tell,  the  pig  was  already  contem- 
plating a  call  with  that  object  in  view.  Since 
early  morning  Cleopatra  and  her  yearling  colt, 
Mrs.  Cowslip  and  Gustavius,  and  William,  the 
big-horned  one,  had  diligently  cropped  the 
dewy  grass  of  the  lower  lawn  until  their  sides 
bulged,  while  Reginald  was  so  replete  with 
artichokes  that  he  was  constrained  to  sit  on 
his  haunches  and  grunt  stuffily  while  making 
occasional  rude  comments  on  the  gluttony  of 
his  comrades. 

"You  have  often  reproved  me  for  being 
greedy,"  grunted  Reginald  as  the  colt  harvested 
a  luscious  bunch  a  yard  from  where  he  sat, 
"yet  I  have  never  tried  to  eat  up  the  whole 
pasture  between  sunrise  and  noon." 

"Don't  give  me  any  of  your  impudence,"  re- 
torted Clarence,  with  his  mouth  full,  "or  I  '11 
...68-.. 


PIG-MALION  AND  GALATEA 

shut  my  teeth  on  one  of  your  ridiculous,  flap- 
ping ears." 

"  If  you  gave  milk,"  commented  Mrs.  Cow- 
slip, "  you  would  understand  the  necessity  of  a 
stomach  filled  with  something  better  than  arti- 
chokes." 

"  Ha !  ha ! "  laughed  the  pig,  with  his  mouth 
wide  open.  "The  sides  of  your  son  bulge  like 
the  sides  of  the  barrel  in  which  Gabe  keeps  your 
breakfast  of  bran.  Ha !  ha !  does  Gustavius  give 
milk?" 

"Let  me  at  him,  mother,"  said  the  bull-calf, 
waving  his  tail  aloft  and  lowering  his  horns. 
"  I  '11  teach  him  !  " 

"No,  you  don't,"  said  the  pig,  showing  sur- 
prising agility.  "  You  greedy  fellows  annoy  me ; 
I  'm  going  to  the  house  and  get  that  red-headed 
girl  to  scratch  my  back." 

So  intensely  satisfied  with  himself  that  the 
kink  in  his  tail  tightened  to  the  verge  of  dis- 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 

comfort,  Reginald  scampered  across  the  lawn 
and  up  the  steps  leading  to  the  veranda.  With 
his  forefeet  on  the  top  step  he  halted  at  a  gruff 
challenge  from  Napoleon.  The  bull-terrier, 
with  teeth  unpleasantly  visible,  barred  his  way 
to  the  door. 

"My  goodness,"  said  the  pig,  with  easy  as- 
surance, "how  you  startled  me!  You  were 
always  such  a  joker."  And  Reginald  got  his 
forefeet  on  the  veranda  floor. 

"  Now,  that 's  the  limit,"  growled  Napoleon. 
"  One  step  farther,  and  I  '11  have  your  ears  in 
ribbons." 

"You  don't  know  how  handsome  you  are 
when  you  put  on  that  fierce  look,"  said  the  pig  in 
flattering  tones.  "  Any  stranger  would  believe 
you  in  earnest.  But  you  and  I  know  each  other." 

"What  do  you  want?"  growled  Napoleon, 
somewhat  mollified  in  spite  of  himself  by  the 
pig's  flattery. 

...70-.. 


PIG-MALION  AND  GALATEA 

"  I  've  nothing  to  conceal  from  you,  Napo- 
leon. I  never  have.  I  've  come  to  get  that 
lovely  red-headed  girl  to  scratch  my  back." 

"You'll  have  to  wait;  she  's  inside." 

"  I  '11  go  right  in,"  grunted  Reginald  com- 
placently; "no  trouble  at  all,  I  assure  you. 
Just  step  one  side,  Napoleon,  and  I  won't  dis- 
turb you  in  the  least." 

"You'll  come  right  in?"  Napoleon  was 
boiling  with  indignation.  "  Who  ever  heard  of 
a  pig  in  the  parlor?  You'll  get  right  out  of 
here  before  I  make  you." 

Reginald  assumed  a  look  of  injured  amaze- 
ment as  he  replied :  "  Is  it  possible,  Napoleon, 
that  you  really  mean  to  do  me  this  injustice  ? 
Have  you  forgotten  that  we  are  all  on  terms  of 
equality  here  ? " 

"Not  in  the  parlor,"  growled  Napoleon. 
"No  pig  gets  into  our  parlor,  not  if  I  know 
it." 

...71,.. 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 

"But  you  go  into  the  parlor  whenever  you 
please,"  grumbled  Reginald. 

"  It 's  part  of  my  business  to  go  all  over 
the  house  and  see  that  there 's  no  trespassing. 
That 's  what 's  been  expected  of  us  dogs  ever 
since  the  world  began.  Amanda  raised  an  awful 
row  that  time  the  colt  got  in  the  kitchen.  But 
I  was  n't  to  blame,  being  away  from  home  with 
Gabe  and  Cleopatra." 

The  pig,  with  all  the  stubbornness  of  his  race, 
refused  to  be  convinced. 

"The  Professor  used  to  invite  me  in  often," 
he  complained.  "The  red-headed  girl  would, 
too,  I  'm  sure,  if  she  knew  I  was  here." 

"No,  she  would  n't.  She's  busy  with  that 
automobile  chap.  Can't  you  hear  their  voices 
through  the  window?" 

Reginald  listened.  Yes,  it  was  the  voice  he 
loved  so  well  —  when  accompanied  by  the  de- 
licious sensation  of  one  of  Amanda's  cast-off 
...72... 


PIG-MALION  AND  GALATEA 

nutmeg-graters  being  rubbed  smartly  up  and 
down  his  spine.  It  was  cool  and  even,  and  was 
saying :  — 

"  No,  Arthur,  I  won't  go  for  a  walk,  thank 
you.  I  don't  think  I  like  you  very  well  to-day. 
You  explain  that  you  walked  over  from  the 
station  out  of  regard  for  the  feelings  of  Cleo- 
patra and  Clarence,  and  yet  you  are  wholly 
oblivious  of  my  feelings.  You  come  out  here 
without  your  Red  Ripper  on  an  ideal  day  for 
a  spin,  and  then  you  add  insult  to  injury  by 
talking  of  nothing  else.  Arthur,  I  hate  your 
Red  Ripper,  I  despise  its  phenomenally  per- 
fect sparking  device,  I  loathe  its  triple-speed 
gear—" 

The  pig  lifted  up  his  voice  in  supplication. 
It  was  not  in  vain.  Galatea  emerged  upon  the 
veranda,  smiling  a  welcome  to  Reginald,  whom 
the  Artist  regarded  with  dark  looks  of  resent- 
ment. 

...73... 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 

"  Good-morning,  Reginald ;  won't  you  be 
seated?"  she  said  brightly,  dragging  forward 
an  easy-chair. 

The  intelligent  pig  scrambled  into  the  chair, 
making  confidential  little  throaty  grunts  out 
of  the  side  of  his  mouth  into  the  ear  of  his 
hostess.  The  bull-terrier  satisfied  his  dignity 
by  barking  one  brief  comment  for  Reginald's 
benefit: — 

"Now  what  do  you  think?  This  isn't  the 
parlor.  Perhaps  you  '11  understand  after  this 
that  the  veranda  is  the  limit,  for  a  pig." 

"Hush,  Napoleon,"  commanded  the  red- 
headed girl.  "Here,  get  up  beside  Reginald 
and  make  him  feel  at  home." 

It  was  a  wide  chair.  After  but  one  in- 
stant of  disgusted  hesitation,  the  bull-terrier 
obeyed. 

"  What  has  the  terrier  done  that  he  should 
be  so  humiliated?"  asked  the  Artist,  who 
...74... 


PIG-MALION  AND  GALATEA 

had  even  more  than  the  average  man's  respect 
for  dogs  as  compared  with  other  domestic  ani- 
mals. 

The  girl  ignored  the  question.  There  was 
something  odd  and  unfamiliar  in  her  manner, 
a  peculiar  glint  in  her  eye,  her  full  lips  were 
drawn  in  a  straighter  line  than  usual.  Having 
no  professional  interest  in  the  scene,  the  Artist 
—  unluckily  for  him  —  observed  none  of  these 
ominous  signs.  Galatea  shook  her  finger  in  the 
terrier's  face. 

"Napoleon,  your  manner  toward  Reginald 
is  not  cordial.  Sit  closer  ! " 

The  terrier  meekly  obeyed.  The  pig  gave 
him  an  expansive  smile.  The  Artist  began  an 
impulsive  protest :  — 

"Oh,  now,  I  say,  Galatea  —  " 

"  Napoleon !  Reginald  !  Salute  each  other! " 

The  dog  thumped  the  chair  with  his  tail, 
the  pig  grunted  amiably,  and  they  pressed  their 
...75... 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 

cheeks  together  like  affectionate  children.  The 
lank  figure  and  solemn  visage  of  the  Poet  ap- 
peared in  the  door. 

"What  is  Napoleon's  crime  that  he  should 
surfer  such  punishment?"  he  inquired. 

"Just  as  I  was  remarking,"  began  the  Art- 
ist; "but- 

"That  will  do,"  said  the  girl,  taking  no  no- 
tice of  these  comments.  "  Now  sit  up  and  look 
pleasant;  you  are  about  to  have  your  pictures 
taken  by  a  very  celebrated  artist." 

Both  Reginald  and  Napoleon  assumed  at- 
titudes really  remarkable  for  their  ease  and 
naturalness. 

"Ahem!"  began  the  Artist,  growing  very 
red  in  the  face,  and  stopped  abruptly  at  a  coolly 
inquiring  glance  from  Galatea. 

"  Do  I  understand,"  she  inquired  frigidly, 
"  that  you  take  the  absurd  position  of  Paderew- 
ski,  Calve,  Jean  de  Reszke,  and  other  public 


PIG-MALION  AND  GALATEA 

favorites,  and  disdain  to  exhibit  your  art  upon 
social  occasions  ? " 

"Not  at  all,"  answered  the  Artist  hastily, 
while  the  Poet  regarded  them  solemnly,  but 
with  a  twinkle  in  his  eye.  "  No,  but  —  Well, 
you  see,  I  —  I  am  not  accustomed  to  have  pigs 
sit  to  me  for  their  portraits  —  at  least,  not  upon 
social  occasions." 

"  It  is  perhaps  as  well  that  you  should  un- 
derstand fully  that  Reginald  is  a  personal  friend 
of  mine,  and  that  we  are  on  terms,  not  only  of 
sympathetic  affection,  but  of  perfect  equality." 
And  the  girl  placed  her  arm  about  the  pig's 
neck  with  a  caressing  touch  that  sent  him  into 
a  transport  of  appreciative  grunts. 

"  If  I  thought  that  you  were  guying  me  —  " 

The  girl  turned  upon  him  sharply.   "  Have 

I  ever  insinuated  that  you  were  guying   me 

when  you  compelled  me  to  listen  for  hours  to 

mechanical  details  about  your  Red  Ripper  ?  I, 

...77... 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 

to  whom  poets  are  proud  to  read  their  original 
manuscripts  in  advance  of  publication  ?" 

"Arthur,"  said  the  Poet  gravely,  "Galatea 
is  right.  This  is  a  case  of  love  me,  love  my  pig. 
Your  professional  pride  need  not  suffer.  In  fact, 
the  result  of  your  labors  may  bear  appropriately 
a  title  that  is  classical."  He  turned  to  his  sister. 
"  Galatea,  I  assume  that  you  are  to  be  in  the 
picture  —  you  will  sit  with  the  pig?" 

"Certainly,"  said  the  girl,  as  a  swift  glance 
of  understanding  passed  between  brother  and 
sister. 

"  Why,  then,  just  consider,  Arthur,"  said  the 
Poet  cheerfully,  "you  can  send  your  picture  to 
the  Fall  Exhibition  catalogued  as,  '  Pig-Malion 
and  Galatea/  " 

The  girl  laughed  in  spite  of  herself.  Even 
the  over-serious  Artist  was  not  proof  against  a 
conceit  so  pungent.  But  Galatea's  mood  puzzled 
and  disturbed  him,  for  he  really  loved  her  as 


PIG-MALION  AND  GALATEA 

self-complacent  young  men  often  do  love  girls 
of  keen  wit  and  analytical  minds. 

"Unfortunately,"  he  said,  "I  have  no  draw- 
ing materials  with  me." 

"  I  can  supply  them,"  replied  the  girl,  rising. 

Reginald  grunted  reproachfully  and  started 
to  scramble  down  from  the  chair. 

"O  Reginald,  forgive  me.  I  had  forgotten 
you  came  to  have  your  poor  back  scratched." 

She  turned  to  the  Artist.  "Arthur,  kindly 
hand  me  that  nutmeg-grater  over  by  the  honey- 
suckle vine." 

The  Artist  obeyed.  The  pig  grunted  in 
grateful  anticipation.  Galatea  applied  the  nut- 
meg-grater where  she  knew  by  experience  it 
would  do  the  most  good.  Napoleon  sniffed  dis- 
gustedly, jumped  down  from  the  chair,  and 
went  to  the  Poet  for  consolation. 

"Now,  Arthur,"  said  the  girl  presently, 
handing  him  the  nutmeg-grater,  "you  attend 
...79... 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 

to  Reginald  while  I  go  for  the  drawing  ma- 
terials." 

The  Artist  took  the  unfamiliar  instrument, 
looked  at  it,  and  then  at  the  pig,  and  then  at 
Galatea.  He  seemed  dazed.  As  has  been  re- 
marked before  in  this  truthful  narrative,  the 
Artist  was  a  most  correct  and  proper  young 
man.  He  was  fashionably  dressed,  and  with 
excellent  taste.  He  would  have  considered  it 
a  crime  to  wear  a  cravat  that  disagreed  by  so 
much  as  a  single  dot  or  stripe  from  the  prevail- 
ing mode.  The  thought  of  having  in  any  way 
transgressed  the  rules  of  good  form,  as  laid 
down  in  the  exclusive  club  of  which  he  was  a 
member,  would  have  tortured  him  for  weeks. 
Could  he  conscientiously  scratch  a  pig's  back 
—  with  a  cast-off  nutmeg-grater  ? 

Galatea  drew  up  a  chair  close  to  that  occu- 
pied by  Reginald.  "  Come,  Arthur ;  you  will 
not  find  Reginald  ungrateful." 


PIG-MALION  AND  GALATEA 

"Galatea,"  said  the  Artist,  with  a  suppli- 
cating glance  into  the  girl's  eyes  as  he  moved 
toward  the  vacant  chair,  "when  I  leave  this 
evening  will  you  walk  part  way  to  the  station 
with  me?" 

"Are  you  going  to  be  a  true  friend  to  my 
friend  —  to  Reginald?" 

The  Poet  had  strolled  to  the  other  end  of 
the  veranda. 

"Yes,  Galatea.  You  could  have  no  friend 
who  would  be  unworthy  of  my  friendship." 
In  spite  of  the  nutmeg-grater  in  his  hand,  in 
spite  of  the  waiting  pig,  his  manner  and  his 
voice  were  romantic. 

"Yes,  Arthur,  then  I  will  walk  with  you  to 
the  station."  But  the  smile  she  gave  him  was 
reflective,  and  at  least  half  of  it  rested  on  the  pig. 

The  Artist  sat  down  obediently  and  applied 
the  nutmeg-grater  with  a  will  to  Reginald's 
back.  Galatea  disappeared  within  the  house. 


GAMBOLLING   WITH    GALATEA 

Presently  she  was  heard  calling  to  her  brother. 
The  Poet  followed  her.  He  found  her  in  the 
library,  sitting  limply  in  a  straight-backed  chair 
and  holding  her  handkerchief  to  her  mouth. 
With  a  gesture  of  warning  she  dragged  him 
into  her  own  little  den  off  the  library,  closed 
the  door,  and  gave  her  merriment  full  rein. 
The  Poet  regarded  her  solemnly.  Presently  she 
was  able  to  speak,  though  her  phrases  were 
interrupted  by  convulsions  of  cachinnation. 

"  George,  it  is  perfectly  clear  —  that  in  one 
respect  Arthur  —  is  hopeless  —  Never,  never, 
never  —  never  in  this  world  will  he  acquire  the 
slightest  sense  of  humor.  Think  of  it !  At  this 
moment  —  with  an  old  nutmeg-grater,  he  is 
scratching  a  pig's  back  —  with  all  the  serious- 
ness—  and  attention  to  detail  —  that  he  would 
give  to  a  portrait  of — the  Empress  of  Russia 
—  George,  a  little  while  ago  I  was  angry  with 
Arthur.  I  thought  him  stupid,  self-sufficient, 
...82-.. 


PIG-MALION  AND  GALATEA 

insufferable.  But  now,  when  I  think  of  him 
out  there — irreproachably  attired  —  scratch- 
ing Reginald's  back  — with  all  the  grave  po- 
liteness —  and  earnestness  —  with  which  he 
would  hand  around  cups  of  tea  at  one  of  Mrs. 
Van  Rensellaer's  afternoons  —  I  —  I  almost 
love  him." 

The  Poet  had  not  even  smiled. 

"Galatea,"  he  said,  without  a  trace  of  his 
customary  solemn  banter,  "don't  you  carry  this 
thing  too  far  with  Arthur.  He 's  as  good  as 
gold.  He  's  a  young  man  among  a  million." 

"  George,  Arthur  is  more  than  human.  I 
won't  have  it.  He  's  got  to  let  himself  down, 
like  ordinary  people." 

"  He  is  a  man  of  honor  —  honor  that  is  deep- 
rooted,  ancestral." 

a  He  is  a  slave  to  the  perfectly  correct  forms 
endorsed  by  the  Knickerbocker  Club." 

"  He  is  a  gentleman.  He  lives  in  the  coun- 

...83-- 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 

try  upon  acres  that  are  his  own,  and  is  a  father 
to  those  who  serve  him." 

"He  is  sacred  to  the  memory  of  'noblesse 
oblige,'  and  he  rubs  it  in." 

"  Galatea,  you  are  an  impudent  and  improvi- 
dent young  woman.  As  your  legal  guardian  I 
would  feel  justified  in  locking  you  in  your 
room,  and  keeping  you  there  until  you  could 
realize  the  blessings  you  have  and  the  oppor- 
tunities that  are  open  to  you." 

"  George,  you  are  becoming  almost  as  stupid 
as  Arthur  is.  I  would  n't  have  thought  it  of 
you.  Listen.  I  am  going  to  reform  Arthur.  I 
admit  he  's  worth  saving.  It  is  hopeless  ever  to 
expect  him  to  develop  a  sense  of  humor,  but 
he  shall  at  least  cultivate  a  sympathetic  interest 
in  Bos,  Equus  and  Co." 

She  took  from  her  desk  and  thrust  into  the 
Poet's  hands  pencils  and  a  sheet  of  Bristol 
board. 


PIG-MALION  AND  GALATEA 

"  Take  these  to  Arthur,  please.  I  '11  join  you 
in  a  minute." 

The  Poet  shook  his  head  doubtfully,  but 
obeyed.  The  girl  stood  for  a  moment  with  her 
finger  on  her  lip,  smiling.  Then  she  took  from 
a  work-basket  needles  and  thread  and  a  yard  or 
two  of  faded  pink  ribbon,  and,  picking  up  a 
somewhat  dilapidated  specimen  of  the  fluffy 
chiffon  headgear  which  she  affected,  she  re- 
turned demurely  to  the  veranda  where  the  Art- 
ist was  still  painstakingly  exercising  the  nut- 
meg-grater on  Reginald's  back.  The  pig  lifted 
his  nose  and  grunted  in  her  face,  with  language 
that  could  not  be  misunderstood :  — 

"Ah,  at  last!  Our  mutual  friend  here  has 
been  doing  his  best,  but  he  falls  short  of  ex- 
actly the  right  touch.  Evidently  he  's  inexpe- 
rienced." 

"  Thank  you,  Arthur,"  said  Galatea  ami- 
ably, accepting  the  post  which  the  Artist  sur- 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 

rendered  to  her.  "Reginald  says  you  have  been 
very  attentive.  Now  he  will  reciprocate  by 
posing  in  his  very  best  manner.  Attention, 
Reginald!" 

The  pig  assumed  a  serious  and  dignified  ex- 
pression. The  girl  sat  beside  him,  placing  the 
chiffon  affair  daintily  over  his  ears.  The  Artist 
seated  himself  opposite  with  pencils  and  draw- 
ing-board. The  Poet  leaned  against  the  veranda 
rail  and  looked  over  the  Artist's  shoulder.  His 
long  visage  had  resumed  its  customary  expres- 
sion of  whimsical  solemnity.  The  Artist's  man- 
ner was  unaffectedly  professional. 

"Does  the  hat  belong  to  the  pose?"  he  asked. 

"Yes,"  said  Galatea.  "The  idea  is  that  of  a 
girl  thoughtful  for  the  comfort  of  her  dumb 
friend.  To  protect  his  head  from  the  rays  of 
the  July  sun  she  places  upon  it  the  hat  taken 
from  her  own  head,  already  well  protected  by 
nature." 

-.86... 


PIG-MALION  AND  GALATEA 

"True,"  commented  the  Poet.  "I  've  often 
thought  how  chagrined  the  July  sun  must  feel 
when  he  attempts  to  vie  with  your  blazing  top- 
knot." 

"As  a  matter  of  fact,"  went  on  Galatea  com- 
posedly, "the  flies  have  been  worrying  poor 
Reginald's  ears  terribly.  Hereafter  he  shall  have 
the  same  protection  as  other  civilized  beings." 

The  Artist's  pencil  moved  swiftly.  With 
needle  and  thread  Galatea  attached  a  pink  rib- 
bon to  each  side  of  the  hat,  —  while  Reginald 
grunted  confidential  inquiries  in  her  ear,  — and 
then  tied  them  in  a  bow  under  his  fat  chin. 

"  There,  Reginald,  you  're  perfectly  lovely. 
Now  if  you  '11  promise  to  sit  perfectly  still  for 
five  minutes,  while  the  gentleman  takes  your 
picture,  I  '11  give  your  back  my  personal  atten- 
tion." And  she  showed  him  the  nutmeg-grater. 

"  Your  goodness  of  heart  is  only  exceeded  by 
your  beauty,"  grunted  the  grateful  pig  as  plainly 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 

as  words  could  have  said  it.  "  Believe  me,  I 
shall  always  be  responsive  to  your  slightest 
wish/' 

"  I  have  an  idea,"  said  the  Poet.  "  If  you 
will  excuse  me  I  will  go  and  indite  a  Disserta- 
tion on  a  Pig  That  was  Not  Roasted."  And  he 
disappeared  into  the  house. 

From  time  to  time  Galatea  stole  a  glance  at 
the  Artist's  face.  It  had  the  composure  of  a 
painter  whose  mind  is  concentrated  on  his  sub- 
ject and  who  feels  that  he  is  doing  conscientious 
work.  A  look  of  more  than  admiration  came 
into  the  girl's  eyes.  They  grew  tender.  The 
nutmeg-grater  had  dropped  from  her  hand,  and 
she  was  deaf  to  the  wheedling  grunts  of  Reg- 
inald. Presently  she  seemed  troubled,  as  though 
dissatisfied  with  herself. 

"Arthur,"  she  said  gently,  "I  did  n't  expect 
you  to  do  more  than  make  a  rough  sketch." 

"  Oh,  that 's  all  right,  Galatea.  This  is  a  new 


PIG-MALION  AND  GALATEA 

and  valuable  experience  to  me.  I  've  neglected 
animals.  I  could  n't  have  a  better  chance  than 
this.  Would  you  mind  asking  Reginald  to  turn 
his  face  a  trifle  to  the  left  ?  There  —  that 's 
splendid." 

The  girl  bit  her  lip  and  tapped  with  her  foot 
on  the  floor.  She  even  gave  Reginald  an  im- 
patient glance. 

"  I  never  realized  until  now,"  said  the  Artist, 
as  he  took  a  steady  look  at  Reginald's  profile, 
"  how  much  expression  there  is  in  a  pig's  face." 

"  Indeed  ? "  said  Galatea  shortly. 

"  Of  course  Reginald  is  an  exceptional  pig. 
He  has  advantages,  and  associations,  which  few 
pigs  enjoy." 

A  sharp  retort  leaped  to  the  girl's  lips,  but  a 
glance  at  the  Artist's  perfectly  serious  and  pre- 
occupied expression  caused  her  to  stifle  it. 

"I  had  a  horse  once,"  he  went  on,  as  he 
limned  Reginald's  snout  with  a  sure  hand, 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 

"who  actually  smiled  in  the  most  convincing 
manner.  There  was  no  mistaking  it.  I  suppose 
that  was  because  I  spent  so  much  time  with 
him.  After  all,  it  is  not  so  wonderful  if  domes- 
tic animals  do  acquire  traits  of  some  human 
friend  who  gains  their  confidence  and  their 
affection." 

Now  this  was  one  of  Galatea's  favorite  argu- 
ments. But,  strangely  enough,  the  Artist's  en- 
dorsement of  it  in  the  present  situation  did  not 
seem  to  appeal  to  her.  She  drew  her  chair  away 
from  Reginald's,  ignoring  his  reproaches,  and 
asked :  — 

"Wouldn't  you  rather  finish  your  sketch 
some  other  time?" 

"  No ;  I  am  ashamed  now  that  I  did  not 
accept  your  suggestion  with  greater  enthusi- 
asm —  Look  up,  Reginald  !  that 's  the  idea  — 
in  the  beginning.  That  double  curve  where  the 
jowl  meets  the  neck  is  different  from  anything 
...90-.. 


PIG-MALION  AND  GALATEA 

I  've  seen  in  another  subject.  Unless  you  're 
tired,  I  '11  be  grateful  for  four  or  five  minutes 
longer." 

He  had  hardly  glanced  at  the  girl.  Clearly 
the  pig  was  claiming  his  whole  attention.  She 
turned  upon  Reginald  a  look  that  paralyzed  him 
with  amazement,  and  then  addressed  the  Artist 
in  her  softest  voice  :  ~^— 

"  Do  you  think  your  automobile  will  be  safe 
where  you  left  it,  Arthur?" 

"  Oh,  yes,  perfectly.  Look  !  the  intelligence 
of  Reginald  is  wonderful.  I  was  just  wishing  for 
a  more  serious  expression,  and  he  has  already 
assumed  it.  Wonderful,  really  wonderful !  " 

"  If  some  mischievous  boy  should  tamper 
with  the  rubber  tires,  I  should  feel  to  blame," 
said  Galatea.  "There  are  no  boys  about  here." 

"No  danger.    Now  if  you  '11  lift  that  bit 
of  chiffon  out  of  Reginald's  eyes  —    Oh,  you 
frightened  the  poor  chap  ! " 
...91... 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 

Galatea  turned  her  back  on  the  pig.  Once 
more  she  tried  to  show  her  amicable  inten- 
tions. 

"  I  did  n't  quite  understand  your  explanation 
of  your  new  sparking  device,  Arthur.  Does  the 
spark  ignite  the  gasolene?  Or  does  the  gasolene 
ignite  the  —  " 

"  Yes,  that 's  right  —  Would  you  mind  giv- 
ing me  one  look  at  Reginald  with  the  hat  off? 
I  want  to  be  sure  about  that  right  ear." 

Galatea  snatched  the  hat  off  so  rudely  that 
the  pig  squeaked  his  sense  of  unmerited  rebuke. 
The  Artist  drew  a  few  rapid  lines  and  heaved 
a  sigh  of  satisfaction.  He  held  up  the  sketch 
for  Galatea's  inspection. 

"Do  you  think  it  will  pass?" 

"Magnificent,"  she  said,  barely  glancing  at 
it.  "Thank  you  so  much.  Now,  if  you  must 
go,  I  '11  get  my  hat  and  walk  with  you." 

"  Oh,  will  you  ?  It  is  early.  We  can  turn  into 
...92-.. 


41^ 

I 


SIT    PERFECTLY    STILL    FOR    FIVE    MINUTES    WHILE    THE 
GENTLEMAN    TAKES    YOUR    PICTURE 


PIG-MALION  AND  GALATEA 

that  picturesque  old  wood-road,  and  you  can 
easily  get  back  before  dusk." 

Galatea  took  the  sketch  into  the  house,  and 
presently  returned  wearing  a  hat  which  was 
merely  a  fresher  copy  of  the  one  which  the 
Artist  had  replaced  on  Reginald's  ears. 

"Shall  we  invite  Reginald  to  accompany 
us?"  he  asked.  "He  's  been  so  good." 

Galatea's  indignant  surprise  nearly  betrayed 
her.  She  managed  to  nod  assent. 

"  Come,  Reginald,"  said  the  Artist,  cheerily. 

The  pig  scrambled  down,  squeaking  his  de- 
light, and  the  odd  trio,  all  at  cross-purposes  and 
none  aware  of  it  but  the  girl,  passed  out  through 
the  gate  and  strolled  down  the  road.  Galatea 
was  silent.  The  Artist  glanced  at  her  with  a 
troubled  look,  but  her  head  was  bent  and  the 
flapping  chiffon  thing  on  her  coils  of  mahog- 
any-colored hair  concealed  her  eyes  from  his 
view.  The  Artist's  star  was  in  the  ascendant, 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 

but  he  was  the  last  who  would  have  known 
it.  It  was  a  situation  that  called  for  blunder- 
ing —  and  the  Artist  could  be  trusted  to  blun- 
der. 

"It  was  good  of  you  to  give  me  that  chance 
with  the  pig,"  he  said. 

"Reginald!"  exclaimed  the  girl.  "Regi- 
nald, run  home,  at  once,"  and  she  stamped  her 
foot  at  the  astonished  pig. 

With  plaintive  squeaks  Reginald  obeyed, 
making  his  short  legs  fly  back  over  the  road. 

They  walked  on  in  silence  until  they  had 
entered  the  shadows  of  the  wood-road.  Sud- 
denly Galatea  sat  down  on  a  stump,  put  her 
handkerchief  to  her  eyes,  and  began  to  sob. 

"Why,  Galatea,  what  have  I  done!"  The 
Artist  turned  pale.  "Are  you  ill?  Shall  I  go 
for  help  —  for  a  doctor?" 

An  emphatic  shake  from  the  shapeless  chiffon 
thing. 

...94... 


PIG-MALION  AND  GALATEA 

"  Do  you  want  to  be  alone  ?  Shall  I  leave 
you?" 

Another  shake — and  more  sobs. 

The  Artist  fell  on  his  knees  beside  the  stump 
and  dared  to  take  her  hand. 

"  Galatea,  never  in  this  world  could  I  know- 
ingly give  you  one  moment's  pain.  You  know 
how  I  love  you,  and  I  know  how  hopeless  is 
my  love.  I  shall  continue  to  love  you  to  my 
dying  day,  and  there  is  no  sacrifice  I  would  not 
make  to  see  you  happy.  Tell  me,  Galatea,  how 
I  have  offended  you." 

She  raised  her  head  and  looked  at  him  stead- 
ily. He  wondered  that  she  did  not  look  her 
displeasure.  Instead,  there  was  something  in  her 
expression  —  he  could  not  think  what — that 
made  his  heart  thump. 

"Arthur,"  she  said,  "will  you  do  just  as  I 
tell  you?" 

"  Only  try  me,  Galatea." 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 

"Stand  out  there,  in  the  middle  of  the  road." 

He  did  so.  She  rose  and  faced  him  at  arm's 
length. 

"  In  the  first  place,  don't  you  dare  to  inter- 
rupt or  contradict  me." 

He  bowed,  wondering. 

"Arthur,  I 'm  a  mean,  low,  deceitful  crea- 
ture, and  I  don't  deserve  any  consideration 
whatever  from  anybody.  Just  now  I  've  made 
up  my  mind  to  reform  —  but  that  will  take 
time.  I  want  you  to  come  out  to  see  us  often 
and  note  how  I  'm  getting  on.  Now,  look  over 
your  left  shoulder." 

He  turned  his  face  from  her.  Quick  as  a 
flash  she  leaned  forward,  her  lips  brushed  his 
cheek,  and  the  next  instant  she  had  turned 
and  was  flying  down  the  road  homeward.  He 
stretched  out  his  arms  and  started  in  pursuit  of 
her,  crying  out :  — 

"  Galatea  !  Stop  !  Come  back !  " 
...96... 


PIG-MALION  AND  GALATEA 

Then  he  remembered  her  commands,  and, 
seeing  that  she  ran  faster  than  ever,  prudently 
turned  his  steps  in  the  opposite  direction.  But 
he  could  n't  feel  his  feet  touch  the  ground. 
Yet,  in  the  midst  of  his  tumult  of  exultation, 
he  was  puzzled.  Suddenly  he  smote  himself  on 
the  chest  and  exclaimed  :  — 

"  Of  course.  It 's  because  I  had  sense  enough 
to  be  polite  to  the  pig." 


THE  OBSEQUIES  OF  BOS  NEMO 


IV 

The  Obsequies  of  Bos  Nemo 


•X)T  all  was  gladness  and  light 
in  the  entwined  lives  of  Bos, 
Equus  and  Co.  There  came  a 
day  early  in  July  when  the 
confidence  of  Galatea  and  the 
Poet  in  their  four-legged  partners  was  stretched 
almost  to  the  breaking-point.  But  for  the  wis- 
dom of  the  Poet,  which  assured  him  that,  after 
all,  civilization  is  only  a  thin  veneer  which  is 
liable  to  crack  open  under  stress  of  provocation 
and  reveal  the  savage  man  or  the  unenlightened 
beast,  Mrs.  Cowslip  and  her  bull-calf,  on  that 
memorable  day,  would  have  been  condemned 
to  solitary  confinement  in  the  barn,  while  Na- 
poleon, the  bull-terrier,  would  have  fallen  vic- 
tim to  the  flimsiest  of  circumstantial  evidence. 


THE  OBSEQUIES  OF  BO.S  NEMO 

Ordinarily  the  activities  of  Bos,  Equus  and 
Co.  did  not  have  their  daily  awakening  until 
at  least  an  hour  of  sunshine  had  striven  with 
the  dew-laden  meadow.  Gabriel's  duties  were 
light,  and  rheumatic  warnings  urged  him  against 
braving  early  damps.  Amanda,  most  energetic 
of  housewives,  refrained  from  disturbing  her 
pots  and  pans  out  of  regard  for  the  Poet  and  his 
sister,  who  dearly  loved  that  last  hour  of  slum- 
ber made  more  sweet  by  the  chirpings  of  early 
birds  under  their  windows. 

On  this  particular  morning  the  dozing  Poet 
was  conscious  that  the  voices  of  the  birds  were 
eclipsed  by  ominous  rumblings  which,  instead 
of  arousing  him  to  complete  consciousness, 
plunged  him  into  the  midst  of  a  perilous  ad- 
venture. He  was  on  the  deck  of  an  ocean  liner 
enveloped  in  the  dense  fogs  of  that  awesome 
region  off  the  Banks  of  Newfoundland.  His 
body  and  soul  were  shaken  by  the  vibrations  of 
...99... 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 

the  siren,  whose  long-drawn  warning  was  being 
echoed  from  out  of  the  mists.  No,  it  was  not 
an  echo  —  it  was  another  siren.  Its  menace  was 
growing  louder !  A  ghastly  gray  shape  hove 
near.  The  officer  on  the  bridge  seemed  frozen 
with  terror.  The  relentless  ocean,  scoffing  at 
sirens  and  rudders,  was  hurling  two  ships  into 
a  fatal  embrace.  The  Poet  jumped  for  a  life- 
preserver,  striking  his  head  violently  upon  — 
upon  an  old-fashioned  walnut  bedpost. 

Then  he  realized  that  it  was  the  melancholy 
voice  of  Mrs.  Cowslip,  interrupted  by  lament- 
ing bellows  from  Gustavius,  that  had  so  nearly 
brought  him  to  a  watery  grave.  He  ran  to  the 
open  window,  and  heard  Amanda  complaining : 

"  Gabe,  what  on  earth  is  the  matter  with  the 
critters  ?  For  the  land  sakes  do  git  up  ! " 

From  his  window  the  Poet  could  see  Mrs. 
Cowslip  and  the  bull-calf  side  by  side,  with 
their  necks  stretched  out  over  the  barnyard 


THE  OBSEQUIES  OF  BOS  NEMO 

gate,  sending  forth  their  lamentations  toward 
the  bottom  of  the  pasture,  where  the  brook  ran 
under  the  stone-wall  into  a  thicket  of  old  wil- 
low trees  heavily  encumbered  with  wild  grape- 
vines. He  could  hear  Cleopatra  and  Clarence 
clattering  about  uneasily  on  the  floor  of  their 
stalls,  while  Reginald  squealed  for  his  breakfast 
with  more  than  his  usual  insistence,  and  their 
neighbors  in  the  hennery  cackled  inquiringly. 

Gabriel  was  kicking  on  his  boots  outside  the 
kitchen  door  when  the  Poet  and  Galatea  hur- 
ried down,  eager  to  know  how  they  could  calm 
the  feelings  of  their  four-legged  partners. 

"  Oh,  pshaw !  "  said  Gabriel,  seizing  a  tin 
milk-pail,  "critters  are  like  folks;  they  have 
their  ornery  spells  without  knowin'  what 's  the 
matter  with  'em." 

"  I  never  saw  Mrs.  Cowslip  paw  the  dust 
up  over  her  head  before,"  said  Galatea.  "  See  ! 
Now  Gustavius  is  doing  it." 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 

"  She  's  giving  her  offspring  lessons  in  some 
mysterious  rites  of  her  species,"  said  the  Poet 
oracularly.  "I  shall  investigate  and  make  a 
note  of  it." 

"  No,  it 's  instinct,"  said  Gabriel,  as  the 
Poet  and  his  sister  accompanied  him  to  the 
barnyard.  "  You  can  edicate  critters  till  you  're 
blue  in  the  face.  You  can  teach  'em  to  act  like 
human  folks  almost,  and  then  some  day,  all  of 
a  sudden,  they  '11  forgit  everything  and  do  the 
same  fool  things  their  great-grandmothers  did." 

Gabriel  entered  the  barnyard  with  a  three- 
legged  stool,  butted  his  head  into  the  flank  of 
Mrs.  Cowslip,  and  proceeded  to  play  a  pleasant 
tune  on  the  bottom  of  the  tin  pail.  Gustavius 
was  not  distracted  by  this  familiar  operation. 
Suddenly  he  redoubled  his  bellowings  over  the 
barnyard  gate.  Mrs.  Cowslip  wavered  between 
surges  of  emotion  and  her  respect  for  Gabriel. 

"So,  boss,"  commanded  the  man  with  the 

•  •  •  102- • • 


THE  OBSEQUIES  OF  BOS  NEMO 

half-filled  pail  between  his  knees.  And  then,  as 
Mrs.  Cowslip  switched  her  tail  in  his  face: 
"Standstill,  darn  ye!'* 

Such  language  at  such  a  time  was  not  wise. 
Mrs.  Cowslip,  ignoring  intervening  obstacles, 
rushed  to  join  Gustavius  in  a  duet  of  lamenta- 
tion, leaving  Gabriel  on  his  back  with  the  milk- 
pail  overturned  into  his  protesting  bosom.  He 
rose,  gasping,  with  arms  hanging  limp  like  a 
man  trying  to  get  as  far  away  from  his  clothes 
as  possible.  At  that  moment  Amanda  emerged 
wildly  from  the  hennery,  screaming  :  — 

"  Gabe  !  Gabe !  They  *s  only  four  eggs  under 
the  speckled  hen !" 

"What's  that?"  asked  Gabriel,  startled  out 
of  his  fury  at  Mrs.  Cowslip,  although  he  could 
feel  streams  of  warm  milk  trickling  down  into 
his  boots.  "Only  four,  Amanda?  The  hull 
dozen  was  there,  yesterday.  I  took  the  hen  off 
an'  counted  *em." 

...103... 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 

They  looked  at  each  other  as  though  stunned 
by  a  calamity  too  dreadful  for  words.  Amanda 
was  first  to  recover  her  speech.  Her  eye  traveled 
down  Gabriel's  soaking  garments  to  the  tin  pail 
bottom  up  on  the  ground,  and,  with  the  gen- 
uine feminine  logic  which  men  find  so  charm- 
ing in  such  moments,  she  said  :  — 

"  Gabe,  I  do  believe  you  've  spilled  all  the 
morning's  milk !  " 

"  No/'  drawled  the  Poet  soothingly,  "  he  has 
it  all  in  his  pockets." 

"  Hush,  George,"  said  Galatea.  And  then  to 
Amanda:  — 

"  Were  the  eggs  valuable  ones  ? " 

"Valuable!"  exclaimed  Gabriel.  "They 
was  only  one  settin'  of  'em  in  th'  hull  county. 
Amanda  was  crazy  for  'em,  and  so  was  Si 
Blodgett,  darn  the  old  hypocrite !  He  and 
Amanda  bid  against  each  other  till  I  had  to  pay 
fifty  cents  apiece  for  them  eggs !  " 
...  104-  • • 


THE  OBSEQUIES  OF  BOS  NEMO 

"  Oh  dear  !  "  said  Galatea.  "  Then  they 
were  n't  hen's  eggs  at  all  ?" 

"  Hen  eggs  ?  I  should  say  not.  They  were 
Golden  Guinea  eggs,  and  no  more  to  be  had 
for  love  or  money." 

Mrs.  Cowslip  and  Gustavius  lowed  dismally, 
casting  dust  upon  their  heads. 

"  There  's  sympathy  for  you,"  observed  the 
Poet.  "Never  tell  me  again  that  a  cow  lacks 
intelligence,  or  a  bull-calf  perspicacity.  Any 
one  can  see  that  they  're  bemoaning  disaster  to 
those  eggs." 

"  For  the  land  sakes,  Gabe,  turn  the  critters 
out,"  said  Amanda. 

"  No,"  said  the  Poet  solemnly,  disregarding 
Galatea's  warnings  not  to  trifle  with  disaster, 
"  they  must  be  held  as  witnesses ;  a  crime  has 
been  committed." 

Just  then  Napoleon  crawled  under  the  fence, 
lifted  one  front  paw,  cocked  one  ear,  and  looked 
...105.-. 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 

inquiringly  in  the  face  of  the  dripping  Ga- 
briel. Amanda  seemed  startled  by  a  sudden  sus- 
picion. 

"  Gabe,"  she  said,   "  do   you   suppose   the 

dog—" 

"  I  '11  settle  that  in  two  shakes  of  a  lamb's 
tail,"  said  Gabriel,  who  had  already  divined 
Amanda's  suspicion. 

He  took  the  whimpering  terrier  by  the  col- 
lar and  dragged  him  toward  the  gate. 

"Wait  a  bit;  not  so  fast,"  said  the  Poet. 
"Where  's  your  evidence  against  Napoleon  ?" 

Gabriel  pointed  to  certain  yellow  stains 
about  the  terrier's  muzzle. 

"  That 's  egg  —  Golden  Guinea  egg  at  fifty 
cents  apiece.  Open  the  gate,  Mandy." 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do?"   demanded 
the  Poet.   "  You  can't  condemn  and  execute 
a  member  of  the  firm  of  Bos,  Equus  and  Co. 
on  one  little  bit  of  circumstantial  evidence." 
. . .  106-  •  - 


THE  OBSEQUIES  OF  BOS  NEMO 

"No,  indeed  not,"  said  Galatea. 

"  But  I  can  give  him  the  third  degree,  darn 
him,  an*  make  him  confess,"  declared  Gabriel, 
who,  as  constable  of  the  township,  had  taken 
pains  to  post  himself  on  the  latest  police  methods. 

The  suspected  criminal,  his  accusers,  and  his 
two  champions,  proceeded  to  the  hennery  and 
to  the  nest  of  the  incubating  speckled  hen,  amid 
a  chorus  of  cackling  inquiries.  Straight  up 
to  the  ravished  nest  Napoleon  was  led.  The 
speckled  hen  pecked  him  sharply  on  the  nose. 
Napoleon  yelped. 

"There!"  exclaimed  Galatea.  "It's  per- 
fectly plain  that  the  hen  could  defend  herself 
against  a  small  dog  like  Napoleon." 

"  Lift  her  off  the  nest,"  said  Gabriel. 

The  speckled  hen  squawked,  but  Amanda 
was  firm.  Galatea  lifted  up  the  terrier  and 
rubbed  his  nose  in  the  nest. 

"What  did  I  tell  ye?"  said  Gabriel  in  tri- 
...107... 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 

umph.    "  D'  ye   see  the    guilty  look    in    his 
face?" 

"  It  is  n't  guilt,"  declared  Galatea  hotly ; 
"  it 's  reproach  —  reproach  for  your  unjust 
suspicions." 

"  It 's  righteous  indignation,"  said  the  Poet. 

"  It 's  guilt,"  said  Amanda,  restoring  the 
hen  to  her  four  eggs.  "When  a  dog  has  been 
stealin'  eggs,  an*  you  rub  his  nose  in  the  nest, 
he  always  looks  that  way." 

"  Besides,  there 's  the  yaller  on  his  nose," 
said  Gabriel.  "  Napoleon,  you  're  goin'  to  git 
th'  lickin'  of  your  lifetime." 

"  Wait,"  said  Galatea.  "  That 's  yellow  paint 
on  Napoleon's  nose.  I  repainted  some  croquet 
balls  yesterday,  and  he 's  been  playing  with 
them." 

"Ah,"  said  the  Poet,  "think  of  all  the  in- 
nocent men  who  have  been  hanged  on  circum- 
stantial evidence." 

.  • .  108- • • 


THE  OBSEQUIES  OF  BOS  NEMO 

"It 's  egg,"  said  Gabriel  stubbornly. 

"  It 's  paint,"  said  Galatea.  "  Gabriel,  don't 
you  dare  punish  Napoleon." 

"  At  least  it 's  a  case  for  the  experts,"  ob- 
served the  Poet.  "We  must  have  a  chemical 
analysis  of  Napoleon's  nose  before  he  can  be 
convicted." 

"  Gosh ! "  said  Gabriel,  "  what  a  lot  of  fuss 
all  on  account  of  a  dog." 

"You  forget,"  said  Galatea.  "Napoleon  is 
a  member  of  our  family ;  we  're  all  on  terms 
of  equality  here." 

During  this  argument  for  and  against  the 
guilt  of  Napoleon,  Clarence,  with  his  head 
through  a  small  window  in  the  wall  which 
separated  his  stall  from  the  hennery,  had  been 
an  interested  spectator.  As  though  to  indicate 
his  approval  of  Galatea's  last  remark,  he  bared 
his  teeth  and  nipped  Gabriel  sharply  in  the  re- 
gion of  his  hip  pocket. 

...  109 ... 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 

"Ouch!"  said  Gabriel. 

"  One  more  witness  for  the  defense,"  said 
the  Poet.  "  Hello,  what 's  this  ? " 

A  ragged-edged  square  of  dark  woolen  cloth, 
with  a  blue  stripe,  hung  from  a  rusty  nail  in 
the  ledge  of  the  window  through  which  Clar- 
ence had  withdrawn  his  head  in  dodging  a  slap 
from  Gabriel. 

"  Behold ! "  said  the  Poet,  displaying  the  bit  of 
cloth,  which  was  about  the  size  of  a  man's  hand. 
"  Behold  proof  of  Napoleon's  innocence  !  " 

"How  d'ye  make  that  out?"  demanded 
Gabriel. 

"  By  the  process  known  as  inductive  reason- 
ing ;  the  same  kind  of  reasoning  which  enabled 
Edgar  Allan  Poe  to  solve  the  Nassau  Street 
murder  mystery  after  the  police  had  given 
it  up.  It  is  perfectly  plain  that  the  thief  who 
stole  those  eight  expensive  eggs  wore  trousers 
of  the  same  pattern  as  this  bit  of  cloth.  In 
...  no--- 


THE  OBSEQUIES  OF  BOS  NEMO 

taking  the  eggs  from  the  nest  he  stood  where 
you  were  standing,  Gabriel,  when  Clarence 
nipped  you.  The  speckled  hen  was  not  to  be 
ravished  of  her  eggs  without  a  struggle.  She 
pecked  and  she  squawked.  Clarence  heard 
her  and  flew  to  the  rescue.  He  put  his  head 
through  the  window,  as  he  did  just  now,  and 
he  nipped  the  thief  just  as  he  nipped  you,  Ga- 
briel --  that  is,  in  the  region  of  the  hip  pocket. 
Only  in  this  case  Clarence  knew  that  he  was 
dealing  with  a  violator  of  the  law,  and  he 
nipped  deep.  His  teeth  tore  away  and  hung 
upon  that  waiting  nail  the  clue  which  will  one 
day  convict  the  criminal.  Look  for  the  man 
whose  dark,  blue-striped  trousers  have  a  patch 
over  or  near  the  hip  pocket.  How  strange  are 
the  ways  of  justice  !  " 

"Well,  I  swan  to  man!"  said  Gabriel. 

Amanda  was  twisting  the  corners  of  her  apron 
nervously.  Gabriel  gave  her  a  stern  glance. 
•••  in  •«• 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 

"  Mandy,  have  you  been  losin'  any  more  keys 
of  the  henhouse  ? " 

"  I  missed  one  yesterday,"  said  Amanda 
meekly.  "Maybe  I  left  it  in  the  lock,  havin' 
my  hands  full  of  fresh  eggs." 

Gabriel  snorted.  He  released  Napoleon,  who 
ran  to  Galatea  for  consolation,  and  got  it ;  and 
then  the  court  adjourned  to  the  barnyard,  where 
Mrs.  Cowslip  and  Gustavius  were  still  lament- 
ing. 

"  I  suggest,"  said  the  Poet,  "that,  as  the  case 
is  tolerably  clear  against  the  man  with  the  blue- 
striped  trousers,  we  excuse  these  somewhat 
doubtful  witnesses,  who  seem  to  have  troubles 
of  their  own." 

Thereupon  all  the  four-legged  members  of 
Bos,  Equus  and  Co.  were  turned  loose,  and  the 
two-legged  members  repaired  to  the  house  in 
search  of  their  belated  breakfast. 

During  the  next  hour  the  agony  of  mind 


THE  OBSEQUIES  OF  BOS  NEMO 

displayed  by  Mrs.  Cowslip  and  Gustavius  was 
somewhat  eased  by  the  fresh  flavor  of  the  dew- 
washed  grass  with  which  they  set  about  restor- 
ing the  rotundity  of  their  sleek  bodies.  But  they 
grazed  always  in  the  direction  of  the  stone  fence 
where  the  brook  ran  under  it,  and  ever  and  anon 
they  lifted  up  their  half-filled  mouths  and 
mourned  as  eloquently  as  could  be  expected  of 
a  cow  and  a  bull-calf  in  such  circumstances. 

William,  he  of  the  big  horns  and  whiskers, 
who  was  similarly  employed,  —  there  being  no 
succulent  sheets  or  pillow-slips  left  out  to  bleach 
at  so  early  an  hour,  —  regarded  his  melancholy 
companions  with  a  coldly  critical  eye.  Regi- 
nald could  be  heard  grunting  thankfully  among 
the  artichokes.  It  was  Cleopatra  and  Clarence 
who,  alone,  had  sufficient  good  breeding  to 
accompany  their  morning  repast  with  amiable 
conversation. 

"Mother,"  the  colt  was  saying,  "what  do 
...113... 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 

you  make  of  the  extraordinary  conduct  of  Mrs. 
Cowslip  and  her  offspring  ?  Is  it  colic,  or  is  the 
weather  going  to  change?" 

"My  son,"  replied  Cleopatra  between  nib- 
bles, "  when  you  have  lived  as  long  as  I  have, 
you  will  cease  all  attempts  to  discover  the  mo- 
tives which  actuate  the  cow  kind.  Beings  of 
that  species  have  no  intelligence.  They  have 
only  a  sort  of  blind  instinct  and  an  emotional 
capacity  which  stamps  them  as  primitive  in  the 
extreme,  and  therefore  unworthy  to  associate 
on  equal  terms  with  our  highly  intellectual 
race." 

Clarence  turned  this  chunk  of  wisdom  over 
in  his  mind  several  times,  and,  being  unable  to 
assimilate  it,  observed :  — 

"  I  overheard  Mrs.  Cowslip  saying  something 
to  Gustavius  about  smelling  death  in  the  air  this 
morning.  I  at  once  counted  noses,  and  none  of 
the  family  was  missing." 

...  114... 


THE  OBSEQUIES  OF  BOS  NEMO 

"  That  reminds  me,  my  son,  that  the  cow 
kind  have  a  strange  custom  which  probably 
dates  back  to  some  prehistoric  ancestor  as  su- 
perstitious and  unphilosophic  as  themselves.  I 
refer  to  their  custom  of  holding  unseemly  cere- 
monies over  their  dead.  I  remember  once — " 

"But,  mother,"  interrupted  Clarence, —  for 
the  colt  was  young  and  Cleopatra  was  an  indul- 
gent parent,  —  "there  are  none  of  the  cow  kind 
in  our  family  except  Mrs.  Cowslip  and  Gus- 
tavius.  You  can  see  for  yourself  that  they  are 
both  alive." 

"  Have  n't  I  told  you,  my  son,  that  out 
in  the  great  world  beyond  the  stone  fence  — 
which  you  may  visit  some  day  when  you  are 
older — there  are  many  families  like  ours,  in- 
cluding the  cow  kind  ?" 

"  Now  I  understand,  mother ;  perhaps  some 
Gustavius  of  the  great  world  beyond  the  stone 
fence  has  met  with  a  violent  death,  and  our  Gus- 
...115... 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 

tavius  and  his  mother  feel  some  intimation  of 
it  in  the  breeze  which  comes  from  that  direc- 
tion." 

"  My  son,"  said  Cleopatra,  with  a  proud 
glance  at  her  offspring,  "I  see  daily  evidences 
that  the  development  of  your  intelligence  does 
credit  to  my  teaching.  Doubtless  you  have  hit 
upon  the  right  solution  of  this  mystery.  Ob- 
serve :  Mrs.  Cowslip  and  her  son,  as  they  graze, 
proceed  steadily  in  the  direction  of  the  stone 
fence.  It  would  not  surprise  me  if  you  should 
soon  see  with  your  own  eyes  some  such  cere- 
mony as  I  have  mentioned." 

Cleopatra  and  Clarence  continued  their  nib- 
bling in  silence,  while  each  kept  one  specula- 
tive eye  upon  the  comrades  whom  they  con- 
sidered so  far  beneath  them.  William  evidently 
had  pleasurable  anticipations,  also,  for  he  post- 
poned his  usual  morning  observation  of  the 
surrounding  country  from  the  woodshed  roof. 
...116... 


THE  OBSEQUIES  OF  BOS  NEMO 

Presently  he  was  observed  to  rear  his  horns  aloft 
and  stamp  one  foot  menacingly. 

"  Look  at  that  fool  goat,  mother,'*  said  Clar- 
ence. "  He 's  forever  looking  for  trouble." 

Cleopatra  raised  her  head  and  looked  off 
down  the  road.  Then  she  went  on  quietly  nib- 
bling. 

"Can  you  see  anything,  mother?"  asked 
Clarence,  who  was  thrilling  with  curiosity. 

"  Nothing,  my  son  —  nothing  but  that 
strange  young  man  in  the  buggy  that  runs 
without  my  assistance." 

"  Gracious ! "  exclaimed  the  colt,  kicking  up 
his  heels  gleefully.  "Now  we  '11  have  fun." 

"  No,  my  son,  the  uncanny  thing  is  beneath 
our  notice." 

Clarence  looked  at  his  mother  in  astonish- 
ment. 

"  The  other  time  that  evil-smelling  red  thing 
came  swooping  into  our  front  yard,"  he  said, 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 

"  you  kicked  two  ribs  out  of  it  because  you  said 
it  was  a  menace  to  our  means  of  livelihood.'* 

"  Hush,  my  son.  Were  they  not  compelled, 
after  all,  to  rely  on  my  services  to  get  the  thing 
off  the  premises  ?  With  a  slight  injury  it  had 
no  more  life  in  it  than  an  ordinary  buggy.  I 
thought  of  this  while  I  was  dragging  the  clumsy 
affair  to  the  blacksmith  shop.  No,  my  son,  that 
sputtering  red  thing  with  the  shocking  bad 
breath  is  a  false  alarm.  Our  occupation  is 
safe." 

Indeed,  the  Artist,  as  he  gracefully  turned  his 
Red  Ripper  into  the  driveway  and  stopped  near 
the  veranda,  was  relieved  to  notice  that  its  late 
enemies  gave  it  only  an  indifferent  glance.  He 
was  attired  from  top  to  toe  in  the  most  irre- 
proachable new  automobile  togs,  and  in  his 
buttonhole  was  an  orchid  of  price — purple, 
shading  delicately  into  pink.  The  Artist's  spirits 
appeared  to  be  as  high  as  his  boutonniere  was 
...118... 


THE  OBSEQUIES  OF  BOS  NEMO 

high-priced.  It  was  as  though  some  invisible 
herald  had  announced  :  "  Lo,  the  bridegroom 
cometh."  The  truth  is,  it  was  the  Artist's  first 
visit  since  the  day  of  Galatea's  impulsive  act 
of  penitence  in  the  wood-road,  and  he  still 
thrilled  with  the  memory  of  the  swift  kiss  she 
had  left  upon  his  cheek  the  instant  before  she 
sped  away.  All  this  was  well  enough ;  but  it 
was  impossible  for  the  Artist  not  to  blunder. 
His  present  blunder  was  in  being  over-confi- 
dent in  the  memory  of  that  kiss. 

The  moment  the  Poet's  mahogany-haired 
sister,  in  a  trig  costume  of  glossy  white  linen, 
including  the  prettiest  of  high-heeled  little  slip- 
pers, came  out  upon  the  veranda  and  cast  her 
eye  over  the  immaculate,  exultant  visitor,  you 
would  have  been  sorry  for  him  —  sorry  that 
God  had  not  gifted  him  with  a  modicum  of 
subtlety  in  matters  feminine. 

"  Good-morning,  Arthur." 
...119... 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 

Galatea's  voice  was  as  cool  as  one  of  Amanda's 
unplucked  cucumbers. 

Arthur  sprang  lightly  up  the  steps,  and, 
screened  by  the  honeysuckle  vine,  seized  her 
hand  and  kissed  it  ardently. 

"  Why,  Arthur  !  Are  you  ill  ?  Has  the  sun 
affected  your  head  ? " 

"  Don't  play  with  me,  Galatea,  I  'm  too 
happy  —  so  happy  that  I  'm  serious.  The  time 
has  come  for  us  to  understand  each  other." 

Galatea  looked  curiously  at  the  much-kissed 
hand. 

"  Arthur,  you  '11  forgive  me  if  I  confess  to 
doubts  about  ever  being  able  to  understand 
you." 

"  Dear  —  don't,  don't  say  that,  after  that 
moment  in  the  wood-road." 

"  The  wood-road  ? "  She  put  her  finger  pen- 
sively to  her  lip.  "  Oh,  yes,  now  I  remember. 
I  brushed  a  mosquito  off  your  cheek." 
•  • - 120  •  •  • 


THE  OBSEQUIES  OF  BOS  NEMO 

The  Artist  would  not  be  warned  —  it  was 
not  his  fault,  he  was  built  that  way.  He  took 
her  hand  again. 

"  Galatea !  Galatea !  For  the  first  time 
you  let  me  tell  you  how  much  I  love  you. 
You  confessed  that  you  had  not  treated  me  with 
consideration,  and  you  asked  me  to  come  often 
and  note  the  progress  of  your  reformation." 

Here  the  Artist  paused  and  kissed  Galatea's 
hand  a  great  many  more  times.  He  did  not  see 
the  mischief  in  her  eyes  as  she  drew  her  hand 
away  and  asked :  — 

"Arthur,  tell  me,  why  do  you  do  that  ? " 

"Why  do  I  kiss  your  hand?" 

"Yes." 

"  Perhaps  it  is  because  I  have  not  courage  to 
kiss  your  —  Galatea,  why  did  you  kiss  my  cheek 
in  the  wood-road  ? " 

A  series  of  throaty  bellows  were  wafted  to 
their  ears  from  the  direction  of  the  stone  fence 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 

at  the  bottom  of  the  meadow.  Galatea  drew 
the  Artist  toward  the  end  of  the  veranda  where 
there  was  a  clear  view. 

"  Oh,  Arthur !  Look  at  Mrs.  Cowslip ! 
She  '11  kill  poor  Gustavius !  " 

The  bull-calf  s  situation  was  indeed  precari- 
ous. He  was  neatly  balanced  on  his  stomach  on 
top  of  the  stone  fence,  while  his  mother,  with 
frantic  bellows,  after  the  manner  of  her  kind 
was  endeavoring  to  boost  him  over  with  her 
horns.  Gabriel  was  hastening  to  the  scene,  with 
a  pitchfork  in  his  hand,  and  Napoleon,  for- 
getful of  late  humiliations,  barking  at  his 
heels.  Cleopatra  and  Clarence  were  snorting 
their  alarm  from  a  little  distance.  It  remained 
for  William  to  relieve  the  general  tension  by 
planting  a  terrific  butt  with  such  precision  that 
Gustavius,  launched  headlong  from  the  fence, 
made  his  first  actual  acquaintance  with  the  great 
world  beyond.  Before  Gabriel  with  his  pitch- 


THE  OBSEQUIES  OF  BOS  NEMO 

fork  could  head  off  Mrs.  Cowslip,  she,  with  a 
mighty  leap  and  scramble,  joined  her  offspring, 
and  together,  bellowing,  they  rushed  into  the 
tangle  of  willows  and  wild  grapevines.  Gabriel 
followed  with  Napoleon. 

Galatea,  having  alarmed  the  Poet,  hurried 
with  her  brother  and  the  Artist  down  the 
meadow.  Before  they  reached  the  fence,  Ga- 
briel's head  appeared  over  it.  He  waved  the 
pitchfork,  addressing  Galatea. 

"Git  back  !  Git  back  !  A  cow  funeral  ain't 
no  place  for  wimmen  folks !  " 

"  Oh,  Mrs.  Cowslip  must  be  dead,"  sobbed 
Galatea,  restraining  the  Artist  as  the  Poet 
hurried  on  and  shot  his  long  legs  over  the 
stone  fence.  "  Poor,  dear,  good  Mrs.  Cowslip  ! 
Promise  me,  Arthur,  that  you  '11  save  Gusta- 
vius." 

She  was  clinging  to  his  arm  beseechingly. 
Arthur  experienced  one  of  his  rare  moments 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 

of  real  intelligence.  He  drew  a  long  breath, 
and  thrust  out  his  chest. 

"And  if  I  succeed,  Galatea?" 

"  Oh,  if  you  succeed,  Arthur,  —  dear  Ar- 
thur, —  I  shall  try  and  remember,  some  day, 
to  tell  you  how  much  I  —  how  much  I  really 
love  you." 

The  Artist  had  the  most  excellent  good  sense 
to  kiss  her  fervently,  on  the  lips,  and  the  super- 
lative intelligence  thereon  to  leave  her  and 
rush  to  the  rescue  of  Gustavius.  Galatea  re- 
turned to  the  house,  went  into  the  library,  and 
for  quite  half  an  hour  kept  her  eyes  fixed  on 
one  page  of  a  book  that  was  upside  down. 

The  spectacle  that  met  the  Poet's  gaze  as  he 
burst  through  the  grapevine  thicket  caused  him 
to  exclaim :  — 

"  The  obsequies  of  Bos  Nemo,  as  I  'm  a  sin- 
ner!" 

The  truth  of  this  remark  was  obvious.  On 
...  124 ... 


THE  OBSEQUIES  OF  BOS  NEMO 

the  margin  of  the  brook,  whither  his  instinct 
had  prompted  him  to  crawl  when  fatally  stricken 
with  what  Gabriel  explained  was  "  the  black 
leg,"  lay  the  lifeless  body  of  a  strange  steer, 
nameless  so  far  as  any  one  present  knew  ;  and 
near  by,  with  their  noses  to  the  ground  while 
they  pawed  dust  over  their  shoulders,  Mrs. 
Cowslip  and  Gustavius,  according  to  the  cus- 
tom of  their  kind,  were  bellowing  and  mooing 
the  last  rites  for  the  dead.  In  vain  Gabriel 
prodded  them  with  his  pitchfork ;  the  obse- 
quies continued  with  an  increasing  display  of 
emotion. 

"  This  is  news  to  me,"  said  the  Artist,  when 
Gabriel  had  explained  that  horned  cattle  never 
neglect  to  hold  funeral  ceremonies  over  the  dead 
of  their  kind.  "  It 's  like  a  wake  —  barring  the 
pipes  and  bottles." 

"  Darn  the  critters'  skins,"  said  Gabriel ; 
"when  that  cow  an'  bull-calf  come  out  of  their 
...  125  ... 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 

tantrum  they  're  goin'  to  be  locked  in  the  barn 
to  think  it  over  the  rest  of  the  day." 

"  No,"  said  the  Poet,  "  that 's  not  according 
to  the  rules  and  regulations  that  govern  the  firm 
of  Bos,  Equus  and  Co.  Equal  rights  and  privi- 
leges to  all,  irrespective  of  the  individual  equip- 
ment as  to  legs  —  that 's  our  constitution,  Ga- 
briel. Mrs.  Cowslip  has  just  as  much  right  to 
her  funeral  as  I  have  to  mine.  Besides,  can't 
you  see,  she  's  teaching  Gustavius  the  orthodox 
bovine  ceremony." 

Leaving  the  Poet  and  Gabriel  in  charge  of 
the  mourners,  being  assured  that  their  grief 
would  presently  wear  itself  out,  the  Artist  has- 
tened back  to  Galatea.  He  found  her  in  the 
library,  and  his  thrilling  tale  of  how  he  saved 
the  life  of  Gustavius  merited  all  the  reward  it 
inspired. 


SEIZED    HER    HAND    AND    KISSED    IT    ARDENTLY 


EQUUS  MINOR,  DETECTIVE 

V 

Equus  Minor,  Detective 

F  all  the  crazy  notions ! ' '  sniffed 
Amanda. 

She  was  filling  glass  jars  with 
raspberries  out  of  a  kettle  on  the 
roaring  kitchen  stove,  while 
Gabriel  screwed  down  the  metal  tops,  perspir- 
ing freely  in  the  super-heated  midsummer  tem- 
perature. 

"  Pshaw ! "  said  Gabriel,  "  this  here  Poet  an' 
his  sister  ain't  a  bit  crazier  'n  the  Professor  was. 
D'  ye  recollect  what  the  Professor  said  'bout 
'the  emotional  capacities  of  so-called  dumb 
animals,'  —  I  seem  to  hear  his  lingo  now,  — 
jest  before  he  went  away,  after  playin'  his  flute 
in  the  barnyard  till  pretty  near  midnight?" 
"  The  Professor  was  a  nice  man,"  admitted 
...  127  ... 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 

Amanda,  "but  when  it  came  to  dealin'  with 
critters  he  was  crazy  as  a  bedbug." 

"  I  dunno,  Mandy.  I  sneaked  out  to  th'  barn 
that  night,  an'  th'  way  th'  cow  an'  calf  took  to 
th'  Professor's  music  made  my  flesh  creep.  You 
know,  Mandy,  they  ain't  nothin'  in  natur'  so 
doggone  stubborn  an'  foolish  as  a  bull-calf — 
not  even  a  pig.  Well,  you  ought  'a'  seen  th' 
ca'm  an'  peaceful  way  that  bull-calf  laid  his 
chin  on  the  Professor's  shoulder  an'  bla-a-ted 
softly  to  himself  when  th'  slow  an'  solemn  tunes 
was  bein'  played." 

"  Gabe,  you  tend  to  them  jars  an'  quit  your 
jokin'." 

"  Honest,  Mandy,  true  as  I  live  an*  breathe. 
An'  when  the  Professor  see  I  was  lookin'  on, 
he  stopped  playin'  an  said  to  me :  '  Gabriel,' 
says  he,  'give  me  time,  an'  I  '11  teach  this  bull- 
calf  to  sing  the  doxology.'  An'  I  'm  darned  if 
I  don't  believe  he  'd  'a'  done  it." 
...  128  ... 


EQUUS  MINOR,  DETECTIVE 

"  I  've  heard  dogs  howl  when  somebody 
played  the  fiddle,"  observed  Amanda,  "an* 
that 's  all  there  was  to  it.  You  can't  say  the 
Professor  ever  had  the  crazy  notion  this  here 
Poet  has  of  givin'  a  birthday  party  to  a  yearlin' 
colt." 

"'T  ain't  th'  Poet,  Mandy;  it's  his  red- 
headed sister.  She  was  out  to  th'  barn  th'  first 
thing  this  mornin',  while  I  was  milkin',  an' 
braided  th'  colt's  mane  full  of  red  and  blue 
ribbons.  I  saw  her  kiss  Clarence  on  the  nose 
an'  wish  him  many  happy  returns  o'  th'  day." 

"  For  the  land  sakes  !  "  said  Amanda. 

"  She  got  me  to  fix  up  a  table  in  the  shade 
of  the  old  chestnut  on  th'  lawn,  out  of  a  barn 
door  an'  a  couple  of  sawhorses.  There  's  goin' 
to  be  a  birthday  dinner  at  two  o'clock,  an'  all 
th'  critters  are  invited." 

"Be  you  goin',  Gabe?"  inquired  Amanda, 
with  subtle  sarcasm. 

...  129 ... 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 

"  Gosh,  no !  The  dog  an'  I  ain't  speakin* 
since  that  trouble  'bout  th'  Golden  Guinea 
eggs.  You  know  it 's  reely  Napoleon  that 's 
givin'  th'  party." 

"  Gabe,  you  jest  go  'long  ! " 

"  Honest,  Mandy.  That 's  th'  Poet's  idee. 
He  says  th'  dog  could  n't  do  less  after  th'  colt 
savin'  him  from  that  lickin',  'count  o'  them 
eggs." 

"  Well,  I  never ! "  Amanda  sat  down  and 
fanned  herself  with  her  apron. 

"  Yes ;  an'  they  's  goin'  to  be  speech-makin' 
an'  music.  That  there  artist  chap  is  comin'  out 
with  his  banjo,  an'  while  the  critters  are  eatin' 
an'  drinkin'  he  an'  th'  Poet  with  his  guitar  are 
goin'  to  play  duets,  jest  like  they  do  in  them 
high-toned  restaurants  down  to  New  York.  I 
heard  'em  talkin'  it  over  when  I  was  fixin'  up 
the  table  out  under  the  chestnut." 

"  Be  you  sure  the  artist-chap 's  comin', 
...  130 ... 


EQUUS  MINOR,  DETECTIVE 

Gabe?"  asked  Amanda,  all  at  once  losing  in- 
terest in  the  main  topic. 

"  W'y,  yes.  W'y  not  ?  Anything  wrong, 
Mandy  ? " 

"  I  dunno ;  she 's  been  treatin'  him  awful 
cool  the  last  few  days." 

Gabriel  laughed.  "I  was  awful  gone  on  a 
red-headed  girl  once  myself,  —  long  'fore  I  met 
you,  Mandy, — an'  I  tell  you  they  keep  you 
guessin'.  You  never  know  how  to  take  'em. 
It 's  always  a  toss-up  what  to  say  or  do  when 
you  court  a  red-headed  girl.  One  day  you  can 
grab  her  and  kiss  her  behind  the  door,  an'  she'll 
act  as  if  she  wanted  to  thank  you  for  it,  an'  the 
very  next  day  she  '11  go  into  tantrums  if  you 
even  wink  at  her.  I  tell  ye,  Mandy,  my  red- 
headed girl  kept  me  guessin'  which  way  she  'd 
jump  till  I  got  so  thin  I  could  n't  cast  a  shad- 
der." 

"Served  you  right,"  snapped  Amanda.  "Men 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 

are  so  stupid.  I  s'pose  when  you  got  so  thin  she 
could  see  right  through  you,  she  was  thankful 
to  settle  down  as  an  old  maid." 

"  No,"  said  Gabriel  solemnly,  "  she  married 
and  proved  a  great  blessin'  to  her  husband." 

"You  don't  say  !   How  could  that  be  ? " 

"  W'y,  ye  see,"  drawled  Gabriel,  "  he  was 
th'  livin'  skeleton  in  a  circus,  an'  a  month  after 
th*  weddin'  he  'd  lost  so  much  flesh  that  they 
doubled  his  salary." 

Then  they  both  jumped  guiltily  at  the  sound 
of  another  voice :  — 

"  May  I  come  into  your  kitchen,  Amanda  ? " 

It  was  Galatea.  She  was  biting  her  lips, 
which  were  hardly  more  brilliant  than  her  mass 
of  mahogany  hair,  and  her  eyes  twinkled. 

"  I  merely  wanted  to  ask  Gabriel  if  he  has 

time  to  pull  some  young  carrots,  turnips,  and 

red  beets  for  our  birthday  party.    George  has 

dug  some  artichokes  for  Reginald."  Then  she 

•  •  •  132  •  •  - 


EQUUS  MINOR,  DETECTIVE 

added :  "  Of  course  you  're  coming  to  the 
party  ?  There  '11  be  music,  you  know  —  guitar 
and  banjo  duets." 

"Sartin,  sartin,"  said  Gabriel  with  alacrity. 

"  You  '11  want  some  loaf-sugar  for  the  mare 
and  her  colt,"  said  Amanda,  bustling  about. 

"  How  good  of  you  !  Now  I  '11  go  and  give 
Napoleon  his  instructions  as  host  of  the  occa- 
sion." 

With  the  exception  of  the  bull-terrier,  all  the 
four-legged  members  of  the  family  had  their 
noses  together  in  the  shade  of  some  willows 
down  by  the  brook.  They  were  exchanging 
views  on  a  matter  that  puzzled  them  greatly. 
Cleopatra  was  apprehensive  about  the  ribbons 
entwined  in  Clarence's  mane. 

"  I  've  half  a  notion,"  she  was  saying  to  her 
gayly  decorated  colt,  "  that  you  and  I  had  bet- 
ter take  to  our  heels  till  this  thing  's  over,  what- 
ever it  means.  It 's  too  much  like  what  I  've 
...  133  ... 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 

seen  at  the  County  Fair  in  my  time  —  yearling 
colts  fixed  up  that  way  led  off  by  some  strange 
man  and  never  heard  of  again." 

"It 's  all  right,  mother,"  said  Clarence, who 
was  very  proud  of  his  ribbons.  "  You  can  trust 
that  red-headed  girl.  When  she  put  these  pretty 
things  on  me,  she  laughed  and  kissed  me  on  the 
nose.  Besides,  look  at  that  fool  pig." 

Truly,  Reginald  did  look  rather  foolish  with 
the  fine  bouquet  that  was  tied  in  the  kink  of 
his  tail  with  a  bit  of  yellow  ribbon. 

"  That 's  all  I  got  when  I  went  up  to  the 
house  to  get  my  back  scratched,"  grunted  Reg- 
inald. "  But  Gustavius  was  no  better  off.  He 
wanted  that  long-legged  chap  to  rub  his  silly 
little  horns,  but  was  sent  away  with  that  jim- 
crack  over  his  ears." 

Reginald  referred  to  a  garland  which  had 
given  the  bull-calf  quite  an  ancient  Roman  look 
until  Mrs.  Cowslip  had  eaten  half  of  it.  But 


EQUUS  MINOR,  DETECTIVE 

this  was  no  more  than  fair,  as  Gustavius  had 
done  as  much  for  his  mother,  whose  crumpled 
horn  still  retained  some  twisted  stems  of  daisies 
and  dandelions.  As  for  William,  no  amount  of 
butting  could  have  freed  him  from  the  trellis- 
work  of  wire,  silver  foil,  and  sunflowers  of 
which  his  sturdy  horns  were  the  foundation. 
He  seemed  grieved  and  humiliated  over  it. 

"  And  you,  yourself,  mother,"  resumed  Clar- 
ence, "  are  included  in  some  scheme  of  general 
festivity.  Never  have  I  seen  the  luxuriant  hair 
of  your  tail  crimped  so  beautifully." 

"It  may  be  that  the  Professor  is  returning," 
suggested  Mrs.  Cowslip.  "  I,  for  my  part,  shall 
welcome  him  warmly." 

"Ah,"  said  Reginald,  "when  you  mention 
the  Professor  I  am  thrilled  by  the  most  deli- 
cious memories.  I  seem  to  feel  his  highly  cul- 
tivated fingers  along  my  grateful  spine  at  this 
moment." 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 

Suddenly  Gustavius  gave  a  truculent  little 
bellow,  and  shook  his  horns. 

"  By  the  fat  on  my  ribs,  it 's  the  dog  !  "  said 
Reginald,  who  secretly  liked  Napoleon  as  little 
as  did  the  bull-calf,  with  memories  of  sharp 
teeth  nipping  his  heels ;  "  I  marvel  at  his  con- 
descension ! " 

"What  did  I  tell  you,  mother?"  said 
Clarence.  "No  one  ever  heard  of  a  dog 
being  led  off,  yet  look  at  the  ribbons  on 
Napoleon." 

The  terrier  was  truly  a  gorgeous  spectacle  as 
he  trotted  proudly  down  the  pasture.  A  deco- 
ration of  red,  white,  and  blue  ribbons  crossed  his 
broad  chest  diagonally,  passing  under  one  fore- 
leg, the  two  ends  being  tied  in  a  large  bow  on 
his  shoulders.  The  colt  advanced  to  meet  him. 
They  had  always  been  staunch  friends  from 
their  mutual  infancy ;  so  friendly,  in  fact,  that 
when  Amanda  was  away  and  Clarence  expressed 
...  136 ... 


EQUUS  MINOR,  DETECTIVE 

a  desire  to  go  into  the  kitchen  in  search  of 
stray  tidbits,  Napoleon  always  managed  to  be 
looking  the  other  way.  Now,  as  they  met,  the 
colt  with  head  lowered  and  ears  pointed  for- 
ward in  token  of  the  utmost  amiability  and  good 
will,  the  terrier  leaped  up,  licking  his  velvet  nose 
and  barking  eagerly  :  — 

"  You  are  to  come  up  to  the  house  at  once, 
old  chum;  everything  is  ready." 

"  Is  Amanda  away,  and  the  kitchen  door 
open?"  asked  Clarence. 

"  Oh,  this  is  different,"  said  Napoleon  has- 
tily. "  It 's  the  red-headed  girl's  affair.  What  do 
you  say  to  young  turnips,  and  carrots,  and  lumps 
of  sugar  afterwards  ? " 

"Will  there  be  enough  for  mother,  too?" 
asked  Clarence,  taking  care  not  to  speak  loud 
enough  to  excite  anticipations  liable  to  disap- 
pointment. 

"  Yes,  for  everybody,"  barked  Napoleon  so 
...137... 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 

that  all  could  hear;  "you're  all  to  come  at 
once." 

"  Well,"  grumbled  Gustavius,  with  a  shake  of 
his  sprouting  horns,  "you  needn't  be  so  stuck 
up  about  it." 

"  I  had  an  engagement  with  the  red-headed 
girl,  anyway,"  grunted  Reginald,  starting  for 
the  house  at  a  fast  trot. 

"  You  just  head  off  that  pig,  Napoleon,  or 
he  '11  make  a  mess  of  everything,"  said  the  colt. 
"  Come  on,  mother  !  " 

With  Clarence  and  Cleopatra  in  the  lead,  and 
Reginald  sent  squealing  back  to  the  rear  with 
Napoleon's  teeth  at  his  heels,  the  summoned 
guests  proceeded,  with  rather  more  decorum 
than  was  to  be  expected,  to  the  banquet  table 
under  the  old  chestnut,  where  Galatea  awaited 
them  smilingly,  with  outstretched  hands. 
Catching  sight  of  several  inviting  peck  mea- 
sures on  the  table,  Mrs.  Cowslip  and  Gustavius 


EQUUS  MINOR,  DETECTIVE 

broke  into  a  trot,  with  the  result  that  the  last 
dozen  yards  were  a  neck-and-neck  race,  except 
for  Reginald,  whose  fat  legs  forced  him  to 
squeal  plaintively  along  behind.  As  the  guests 
arrived,  Gabriel  and  Amanda  hastened  out  from 
the  kitchen,  while  the  Poet,  doubled  up  over 
his  guitar,  and  the  Artist,  holding  his  banjo 
gracefully,  with  their  backs  to  the  chestnut  tree, 
strummed  forth  a  spirited  march. 

"Napoleon,"  said  Galatea,  "  take  your  place 
at  the  head  of  the  table." 

The  terrier  leaped  into  the  host's  chair,  put 
his  paws  on  the  cloth,  and  awaited  further  in- 
structions. 

"Come,  Clarence ;  as  the  guest  of  honor  you 
will  stand  on  Napoleon's  right,  and,  Cleopatra, 
your  place  is  by  the  side  of  your  son." 

With  a  pat  on  the  nose  for  each,  the  girl 
brought  them  to  their  places.  Meanwhile 
Gabriel  had  coaxed  Mrs.  Cowslip  and  Gusta- 
...  139  ... 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 

vius,  with  William,  to  places  opposite  them, 
while  Amanda  prudently  stood  guard  over  the 
peck  measures.  Galatea  poured  balm  upon  the 
wounded  feelings  of  Reginald  by  inviting  him 
to  take  the  chair  at  the  foot  of  the  table.  It 
was  a  most  fortunate  arrangement.  The  pig 
would  have  died  rather  than  show  himself  in- 
ferior to  Napoleon  in  the  matter  of  table  man- 
ners. 

"  Galatea,  what 's  the  first  course  ? "  sang  out 
the  Poet. 

"  Turnips  au  nature!,  George,  with  chicken 
a  la  Marengo  for  Napoleon." 

The  Poet,  for  the  first  time  in  his  life,  almost 
smiled. 

"  Arthur,"  he  said,  "  I  think  « The  Battle  of 
Waterloo  with  Variations'  will  go  well  with 
Napoleon's  chicken  d  la  Marengo" 

Rendered  more  than  usually  docile  by  the 
music,  the  guests  ate  their  turnips  decorously 
. . .  140  •  •  • 


EQUUS  MINOR,  DETECTIVE 

from  the  hands  of  Galatea,  Amanda,  and  Ga- 
briel, while  Napoleon,  as  host,  nibbled  daintily 
at  his  special  dish.  When  the  chicken  and 
the  turnips  had  disappeared,  the  host  and  his 
guests  looked  expectantly  at  Galatea.  Napoleon 
thumped  his  short  tail  against  the  back  of  his 
chair.  The  music  ended  with  a  flourish. 

"George,"  said  Galatea,  "Napoleon  re- 
quests you  to  make  a  few  appropriate  remarks." 

The  Poet  laid  aside  his  instrument,  unfolded 
his  lank  limbs,  and  strode  to  the  side  of  Napo- 
leon, fixing  his  earnest  gaze  on  Clarence,  the 
guest  of  honor,  who  pricked  up  his  ears.  The 
other  guests  — whose  usual  morning  indulgence 
in  grass  and  artichokes  had  eliminated  the 
fiercer  gustatory  pangs — were  round-eyed  and 
attentive.  Amanda  caressed  Mrs.  Cowslip's 
crumpled  horn  to  hide  her  embarrassment  at 
being  a  party  to  such  foolishness,  while  Ga- 
briel chuckled  inwardly. 

...141... 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 

"Clarence,"  began  the  Poet,  "and  fellow 
members  of  the  flourishing  firm  of  Bos,  Equus 
and  Co.,  we  have  come  together  upon  this  happy 
occasion  to  declare  a  dividend  of  mutual  confi- 
dence and  esteem.  The  occasion  —  which  may 
have  escaped  the  notice  of  some  of  you  —  is 
the  first  anniversary  of  the  birth  of  one  of  our 
youngest,  yet  most  enthusiastic  members.  Clar- 
ence, many  happy  returns  of  this  day.  We  sa- 
lute you." 

The  Poet  bowed  to  the  colt,  who  nodded  his 
head  intelligently. 

"  Yes,  yes  !  "  barked  Napoleon  excitedly ; 
words  could  not  have  said  it  plainer. 

"Gosh!'5'  whispered  Gabriel  to  Amanda, 
"  who  would  have  believed  it  ? " 

"  Clarence,"  resumed  the  speaker, "  the  host 
of  this  joyful  occasion  "  —  he  turned  to  Napo- 
leon, who  nearly  wagged  himself  off  his  chair 
—  "  desires  to  express  publicly  his  thanks  for 
...  142  ... 


EQUUS  MINOR,  DETECTIVE 

the  great  service  you  rendered  him  in  that  dark 
hour  "  —  here  the  Poet  frowned  and  shook  a 
reproving  finger  at  the  chuckling  Gabriel  — 
"when  he  faced  unjust  punishment  on  the 
monstrous  charge  of  having  ravished  the  nest 
of  the  speckled  hen.  Then  and  there,  Clar- 
ence, you  rebuked  the  short-sighted  minion 
of  the  law  by  nipping  him  smartly  in  the 
same  sensitive  region  where  you  had  nipped 
the  real  marauder,  tearing  from  him  the 
clue  which  will  sooner  or  later  bring  him  to 
justice." 

The  Poet  took  from  his  pocket  a  ragged 
square  of  blue-striped  dark  cloth  and  submitted 
it  for  Clarence's  inspection.  The  colt  laid  back 
his  ears  and  nipped  at  it.  The  Poet  cast  a  glance 
of  solemn  triumph  around  the  table. 

"Friends  and  partners,"  he  said,  "do  we 
need  any  further  evidence  that  it  was  indeed 
Clarence  who  was  a  witness  of  the  crime,  and 
...143... 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 

performed  this  service  for  Napoleon  and  for 
justice?" 

The  point  was  overwhelmingly  conceded. 

"Doggone  my  skin!  "  whispered  Gabriel  to 
Amanda,  "  th'  colt  remembers  that  rag  by  th' 
smell ! " 

The  Poet  put  the  damning  evidence  back  in 
his  pocket.  Suddenly  Amanda  nudged  Gabriel. 

"  Of  all  things,  Gabe,  here  comes  Si  Blodgett 
with  a  basket  on  his  arm  ! " 

An  undersized,  sanctimonious  person,  with  a 
smooth  upper  lip  and  a  tuft  on  his  chin,  carry- 
ing a  covered  basket,  was  approaching  from  the 
driveway.  He  seemed  pained  at  the  evidences 
of  festivities  progressing.  When  he  had  ap- 
proached within  a  few  yards  of  the  banquet- 
table  he  put  down  the  basket  carefully  and  said : 

"  Brother  Gabriel,  Sister  Amanda,  what  is 
the  meaning  of  this  unseemly  scene  of  levity  ? " 

The  Poet  looked  interested. 
...  144 ... 


EQUUS  MINOR,  DETECTIVE 

"If,  as  your  manner  indicates/'  he  said 
suavely,  "  you  don't  approve  of  this  little  cele- 
bration, I  recommend  that  you  address  your 
remarks  to  headquarters.  I  speak  for  the  host, 
—  Napoleon,  here  at  the  head  of  the  table,  — 
who  is  giving  a  birthday  party  to  our  friend  and 
comrade,  Clarence." 

He  waved  his  hand  at  the  colt,  and  paused 
expectantly.  The  visitor  rolled  up  his  eyes  and 
raised  his  hands. 

"Vanity,  vanity,  all  is  vanity  !  " 

"Oh,  your  name  must  be  Blodgett,"  said 
the  Poet.  "  I  *ve  often  heard  you  mentioned. 
Won't  you  join  us  ? " 

"  I  would  join  you  in  prayer,"  groaned  Si 
Blodgett.  "Would  that  I  might  snatch  you 
from  the  seat  of  the  scornful." 

Gabriel  chuckled.  The  Poet  turned  to  the 
guest  of  honor,  and  continued  :  — 

"  In  conclusion,  Clarence,  and  fellow  mem- 
...145... 


GAMBOLLING    WITH    GALATEA 

bers  of  Bos,  Equus  and  Co.,  I  wish  to  say  for 
those  of  us  to  whom  nature  has  given  but  two 
legs  instead  of  four,  but  has  made  partial  com- 
pensation by  bestowing  upon  us  the  power  of 
speech,  that  we  are  proud  to  claim  you  as 
friends,  as  partners,  as  ecfuals  —  " 

"  Stop  !  "  'groaned  Si  Blodgett,  with  hand 
upraised.  "  Remember  Moses  and  the  golden 
calf!" 

*'  Look  here,  Si,"  said  Gabriel,  "  don't  you 
slander  our  bull-calf.  He  ain't  gold.  He  '11  be 
doggone  good  beef  some  day." 

"  Oh,  ye  unregenerate !  "  almost  screamed  Si 
Blodgett.  "  Soon  ye  will  be  bowing  down  to 
wood  and  stone!  " 

"  Galatea,"  said  the  Poet,  "  what 's  the  next 
course  ?  " 

"  Carrots,  George." 

While  Si  Blodgett  continued  to  groan  un- 
availingly,  the  carrots  were  served.  The  Poet 
•  -  •  146  •  •  • 


EQUUS  MINOR,  DETECTIVE 

resumed  his  instrument,  and  never  before  was 
that  classic,  "  Hiawatha,  "adapted  for  banjo  and 
guitar,  so  inspiringly  rendered.  It  was  repeated 
until  Galatea  produced  the  dessert  of  loaf  sugar, 
and  Si  Blodgett  showed  signs  of  frothing  at 
the  mouth  over  the  ungodliness  of  the  scene. 
As  Galatea  tripped  around  the  table,  drop- 
ping lumps  of  sugar  into  grateful  mouths, 
Si  Blodgett  came  forward,  stretching  his 
arms  across  the  table  to  Gabriel.  He  had 
failed  to  notice  that  the  colt  was  keeping  one 
eye  on  him,  with  the  accompanying  ear  laid 
back. 

"  Oh,  brother,  brother,"  he  said,  "  be- 
ware—  " 

Whatever  the  warning  was  to  be,  it  was  cut 
short  by  a  grunt  caused  by  the  colt  thrusting 
his  hind  quarters  brusquely  into  Si  Blodgett' s 
stomach. 

"  Darn  th'  critter !  "  exclaimed  the  exhorter, 
...147... 


GAMBOLLING   WITH    GALATEA 

with  an  astonishing  change  of  voice  and  senti- 
ment. And  he  slapped  Clarence  smartly  on  the 
flank. 

"Lookout,  Si!"  shouted  Gabriel.  "Th' 
colt  don't  like  ye." 

Si  Blodgett  dodged  barely  in  time  to  escape 
Clarence's  heels.  The  other  guests  were  be- 
coming restless.  The  Poet  and  the  Artist  joined 
Galatea  beside  Napoleon's  chair.  The  exhorter 
went  and  picked  up  his  basket,  and,  approach- 
ing Gabriel,  said:  — 

"  It  is  our  duty  to  be  good  to  those  who 
despitefully  use  us.  Brother  Gabriel,  hearin' 
you  've  been  disapp'inted  in  your  hatchin'  of 
Golden  Guinea  eggs,  and  havin'  a  couple  o* 
pair  of  the  chicks  to  sell,  I  came  over  to  offer 
you  the  first  chance.  They  're  scarce,  you  know. 
I  '11  take  four  dollars  a  pair." 

For  the  space  of  at  least  a  minute  there  was 
amazed  and  breathless  silence.  Even  the  Poet 
...  148  ..  • 


EQUUS  MINOR,  DETECTIVE 

found  himself  speechless.  Amanda  stared  at  Si 
Blodgett,  and  then  at  Gabriel,  whose  eyes  were 
fixed  on  the  basket  while  he  opened  and  closed 
his  mouth  dumbly.  At  length  speech  burst  from 
him. 

"  Si  Blodgett,  where  'd  ye  git  the  eggs  to 
hatch  out  them  Golden  Guinea  chicks  o' 
yourn  ?" 

"  The  Lord  cares  for  them  that  serve  Him," 
said  the  prudent  exhorter.  "  I  got  them  eggs 
where  you  got  yourn,  an'  what  5s  more,  I  only 
paid  twenty  cents  apiece  for  'em." 

"  You  was  there,  Si  Blodgett,  biddin'  agin' 
me,"  said  Gabriel,  doubling  up  his  huge  fists, 
"  an'  you  heard  th'  guarantee  that  there  wa'n't 
no  more  Golden  Guinea  eggs  for  sale  in  th' 
hull  county." 

"  That  was  true,  Brother  Gabriel ;  but,  ye 
see,  I  'd  already  bought  mine  three  days  before, 
an'  they  wa'n't  for  sale,  neither." 
...  149 ... 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 

Gabriel  gurgled  and  managed  to  swallow 
part  of  his  wrath. 

"  Give  us  a  look  at  them  chicks,"  he 
said. 

Si  Blodgett  knelt  down  on  the  grass  and 
picked  at  the  knot  of  the  string  that  held  the 
cloth  over  his  basket. 

"  George !"  exclaimed  Galatea  in  a  startled 
whisper,  "  look !  That  man's  trousers  are  of 
dark  cloth  with  a  blue  stripe !  " 

"  Yes,  but  wait  a  bit.  Look  at  Napoleon  and 
the  colt." 

The  terrier  had  jumped  down  from  his  chair 
and  was  growling,  with  bristling  crest.  Clar- 
ence, with  ears  laid  back,  had  turned  about  and 
was  shaking  his  head  at  the  man  on  his  knees, 
whose  back  was  toward  him. 

The  knot  was  refractory.   Si  Blodgett's  coat- 
tails  fell  apart,  revealing  a  key-chain,  one  end 
of  which  disappeared  in  his  hip  pocket. 
...  150  ... 


THE    GUESTS    ATE    THEIR    TURNIPS    DECOROUSLY 


EQUUS  MINOR,   DETECTIVE 

"  There  !  "  whispered  Galatea.  "  See  that 
patch ! " 

"  Wait !  "  said  the  Poet.  "  The  psychologi- 
cal moment  approaches  —  Ah  ! " 

With  a  sudden  rush  the  colt  fell  upon  Si 
Blodgett's  rear,  nipped  savagely  at  the  region 
of  his  hip  pocket,  and  backed  away  triumph- 
antly with  his  teeth  closed  on  a  chain  from 
which  a  bunch  of  keys  dangled.  The  man 
yelled  in  fright,  then,  seeing  what  was  in  the 
colt's  mouth,  as  Gabriel  sprang  forward  to  cap- 
ture the  aggressor,  he  jumped  up,  exclaiming : 

"Never  mind,  Gabe;  he'll  drop  'em  in  a 


minute." 


"  Clarence  !  "  said  Galatea  softly. 

The  colt  took  a  high-kicking  turn  about  the 
chestnut  tree,  swinging  the  keys  from  his  teeth, 
and  then  trotted  up  to  the  girl  and  dropped 
them  in  her  hand.  Si  Blodgett  reached  for 
them,  but  Amanda  was  too  quick  for  him. 
...151... 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 

"  W'y,  of  all  things,"  she  said,  holding  one 
of  the  keys  in  a  firm  grip,  "  if  here  ain't  that 
lost  key  of  our  henhouse ! " 

Si  Blodgett's  face  turned  red,  then  pale,  and 
then  he  laughed  nervously. 

"  Ye  don't  say,  Sister  Amanda.  I  was  won- 
derin'  if  it  was  yourn,  the  day  I  found  it  in  — 
in  th'  road." 

Gabriel  was  beginning  to  look  dangerous,  but 
he  could  n't  resist  a  thrust  at  Amanda. 

"  What  do  ye  go  'round  sowin'  henhouse 
keys  for,  Mandy?  Expect  to  raise  a  crop  of 
'em?" 

"  I  left  that  key  in  the  henhouse  door,"  said 
Amanda  stubbornly,  "  an'  that 's  all  there  is  to 
it." 

"  O  Lord,  how  long,  how  long  ! "  groaned 
Si  Blodgett,  returning  to  his  exhorter  manner. 
"  But  I  don't  bear  malice.  I  '11  take  my  basket 
and  go  on  my  way  in  peace." 


EQUUS  MINOR,   DETECTIVE 

"  You  '11  stop  right  where  you  are,  Si  Blod- 
gett!"  thundered  Gabriel. 

"Oh  —  er  —  Mr.  Blodgett,"  drawled  the 
Poet,  coming  forward  amiably.  "I  believe  you 
have  the  reputation  of  being  an  earnest  worker 
in  —  er — in  the  Lord's  vineyard?" 

"  If  some  have  been  brought  to  the  throne 
of  grace  through  my  exhortations,  it 's  only 
the  Lord's  mercy.  I  make  no  boast.  I  will  be 
humble.  I  will  take  my  basket  and  go." 

He  stooped  to  pick  up  the  basket,  above 
whose  rim  peeped  four  little  Guinea  chicks. 
The  Poet's  gentle  hand  restrained  him. 

"  Perhaps  you  'd  better  go,  Mr.  Blodgett  — 
presently.  But  if  I  were  you  I  'd  leave  the  bas- 
ket, and  —  er  —  its  contents." 

"I  —  I  don't  quite  understand,"  said  Si 
Blodgett  weakly. 

"  Why,"  said  the  Poet  mildly,  "  one  who  is 
engaged  in  your  chosen  work  of — er^ — of 
...153... 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 

saving  souls  ought  to  neglect  no  opportunity 
of  pointing  a  useful  moral.  Now,  here  is  this 
little  matter  of  circumstantial  evidence  which 
seems  to  convict  a  —  er  —  a  holy  man  of  rob- 
bing his  neighbor's  hennery." 

"  Prove  it !  prove  it !  I  defy  ye  !  "  snarled  Si 
Blodgett. 

"  Be  calm,  Mr.  Blodgett.  Let  us  consider  the 
subject  from  the  standpoint  of  the  exhorter. 
Imagine  yourself  addressing  an  assemblage  of 
young  men  —  young  men  who  are  a  little  wild, 
we  will  say,  who  have  raided  watermelon 
patches,  and  are  in  a  fair  way  to  break  into 
their  neighbors'  henneries.  Think  of  the  effect 
upon  those  young  minds  when  you  tell  them 
about  the  lost  key  of  a  looted  henroost  found 
in  your  pocket !  " 

Si  Blodgett  laughed.  "What  does  a  key 
prove?" 

"  Then,"  continued  the  Poet,  "  you  go  on  to 
...154... 


EQUUS  MINOR,  DETECTIVE 

tell  about  the  contributory  evidence  —  the  fact 
that  the  real  thief  wore  dark  trousers  with  a 
blue  stripe,  just  like  your  own." 

"How  do  ye  know  he  did?"  snarled  Si 
Blodgett,  casting  an  uneasy  glance  down  the  legs 
of  his  dark  trousers  with  their  blue  stripe. 

"Just  like  your  own,"  the  Poet  went  on, 
"because,  as  the  real  thief  was  carrying  off  the 
valuable  eggs  he  'd  come  for,  a  yearling  colt  put 
his  head  through  a  window  into  the  hennery 
and  playfully  nipped  him  in  the  region  of  his 
hip  pocket,  tearing  away  a  ragged  square  of 
cloth,  which  was  found  hanging  to  a  nail  on  the 
window-ledge  the  next  morning." 

The  Poet  took  Clarence's  trophy  from  his 
pocket  and  examined  it  reflectively.  Si  Blod- 
gett's  knees  shook,  and  his  mouth  hung  open. 

"Finally,"  said  the  Poet,  "you  might  drive 
home  your  useful  moral  by  explaining  to  your 
young  hearers  that  your  own  dark  trousers  with 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 

their  blue  stripe  bore  a  patch  the  exact  size  and 
shape  of  the  square  of  cloth  torn  from  those  of 
the  robber  of  henroosts —  Why,  Mr.  Blod- 
gett!" 

At  mention  of  the  patch,  the  exhorter  had 
turned  and  fled  toward  the  road. 

"Hi,  there!  Si!  Si  Blodgett !"  yelled  Ga- 
briel. 

"  No,"  said  the  Poet,  restraining  him.  "  You 
have  a  good,  serviceable  basket,  and  four  fine, 
lusty  Golden  Guinea  chicks  —  worth  four  dol- 
lars a  pair.  Don't  be  greedy." 

"  Clarence,  you  're  a  wonder  !  "  said  Galatea, 
with  her  arm  about  the  colt's  neck. 

"  Mandy,"  said  Gabriel,  "you put  these  here 
chicks  with  their  brothers  an'  sisters  in  th'  hen- 
house—  an'  don't  go  'round  sowin'  no  more 
keys." 


TAURUS  CUPID,   ESQ. 

VI 

Taurus  Cupid,  Esq. 

>S  jocund  Summer  merged  in- 
to placid  Autumn,  Gustavius 
throve  mightily  and  waxed 
fat.  His  shoulders  broadened, 
his  voice  deepened,  his  sharp- 
pointed  horns  acquired  a  high  polish  through 
painstaking  friction  upon  every  available  object, 
and  became  rigidly  embedded  in  his  thickening 
skull.  He  could  summon  the  red  glow  to  his 
eyes  in  moments  of  anger,  and  he  exulted  in  the 
knowledge  that  his  stout  heart  was  bursting  with 
courage.  Gustavius  was  putting  bull-calfhood 
forever  behind  him,  and  each  day  brought  him 
increased  yearnings  for  valorous  deeds. 

In  view  of  this  physical  and  moral  transfor- 
mation, Gustavius  wondered  at  his  tolerance  of 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 

the  familiarities  still  recklessly  practiced  by  his 
comrades.  But  how  could  he  stoop  so  low  as  to 
enforce  respect  from  a  pig  or  a  goat  ?  The  dog 
was  eliminated  from  the  problem,  because  it  was 
a  dog's  natural  prerogative  to  nip  at  the  heels  of 
superiority  and  avoid  punishment  by  flight.  As 
for  the  mare,  she  was  uniformly  courteous,  and 
the  playfulness  of  the  colt  disarmed  him. 

Concerning  the  two-legged  members  of  the 
family,  Gustavius  felt  himself  the  victim  of 
hereditary  respect  for  the  sternly  authoritative 
person  called  Gabe,  and  there  was  something 
so  soothing  in  the  manner  of  the  lank,  long- 
limbed  man  who  spent  most  of  his  time  loung- 
ing about  the  veranda  that  it  was  impossible  to 
offer  him  any  sort  of  challenge.  The  red-headed 
girl  —  ah  !  Gustavius  was  not  ashamed  to  con- 
fess to  himself  that  the  bare  sight  of  her  made 
him  glow  with  docile  affection. 

"And  yet,"  said  Reginald  impudently, — 


TAURUS  CUPID,  ESQ. 

for  Gustavius's  later  reflections  had  uncon- 
sciously resolved  themselves  into  speech,  as  he 
stood  with  his  comrades  in  the  afternoon 
shade  of  the  willows,  — "  and  yet  a  bit  of 
anything  else  as  red  as  that  girl's  hair  sends  you 
into  convulsions  of  rage.  Talk  about  incon- 
sistency—  " 

"Shut  up,  pig!  "  said  Clarence.  "You're 
jealous." 

Suddenly  Gustavius  began  to  bellow  and  paw 
the  earth. 

"What  disturbs  you,  my  son?"  inquired 
Mrs.  Cowslip,  between  the  finish  of  one  cud 
and  the  beginning  of  another. 

"  It's  that  rank  outsider  again,  who  is  for- 
ever butting  in  with  that  vile-smelling  red 
wagon,"  said  Gustavius,  lifting  his  nose  toward 
the  lawn.  "  He  angers  me  beyond  words.  I  've 
laid  for  him  a  hundred  times,  but  he  has  n't  a 
drop  of  sporting  blood  in  his  body ;  he  's  for- 
...  159  ... 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 

ever  hanging  on  to  the  skirts  of  the  red-headed 
girl." 

Galatea  and  the  Artist,  carrying  a  long,  flat 
box  between  them,  were  walking  about  the 
lawn  midway  between  the  house  and  the  wil- 
lows. Presently  they  found  a  smooth,  level 
space,  opened  the  box,  and  proceeded  to  drive 
into  the  ground  two  gaudily  painted  stakes  and 
some  arches  of  wire. 

"  It 's  very  annoying  the  way  that  chap  's 
always  about  nowadays,"  admitted  Reginald. 
"  I  was  just  thinking  of  going  up  to  get  my  back 
scratched,  but  it 's  no  use  now." 

"My  time  will  come  one  of  these  days," 
said  Gustavius.  "  Just  let  me  catch  that  chap 
alone  once,  that  's  all !  "  And  he  began  indus- 
triously sharpening  his  horns  on  the  stone 
fence. 

It  was  nothing  short  of  wonderful,  the  influ- 
ence unconsciously  exerted  by  the  Poet's  sister 
. . .  160  •  •  • 


TAURUS  CUPID,   ESQ. 

over  these  four-legged  comrades  whom  she  had 
captivated  on  the  very  day  of  her  arrival,  as  you 
cannot  fail  to  remember.  Now  Mrs.  Cowslip, 
Cleopatra,  Clarence,  Reginald,  and  William, 
who  ordinarily  prided  himself  on  his  independ- 
ence of  action,  left  the  grateful  shade  of  the 
willows,  and,  with  perfunctory  nibblings  at 
grass,  of  which  they  were  already  over-full, 
slowly  approached  the  scene  of  preparations  for 
that  ancient  and  honorable  game  called  croquet. 
Soon  that  influence  was  too  powerful  even  to  be 
resisted  by  Gustavius,  notwithstanding  the  hated 
presence  of  the  Artist,  and  he  moved  sulkily 
after  the  others. 

The  Artist  was  pensive,  and  occasionally,  as 
his  adoring  glance  rested  on  Galatea's  graceful 
figure,  he  sighed.  His  attention  being  thus  di- 
vided, it  was  not  strange  that  he  should  miss  the 
second  arch. 

"  How  foolish  of  you  !  "  she  said.  "  I  can 
. . .  161  •  •  • 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 

now  save  you  further  exertions  by  taking  your 
ball  around  with  me." 

Being  already  past  the  first  side  arch  and  in 
position  for  the  middle  one,  with  the  Artist's 
ball  an  easy  victim,  she  was  able  to  make  good 
her  promise.  The  Artist  could  not  regret  his 
inevitable  defeat;  it  left  him  free  to  follow 
Galatea  about  and  pour  into  her  ears  a  lover's 
woes. 

"Sweetheart,  why  do  you  continue  so  cold 
and  distant  to  me  ?  One  would  suppose  that 
when  a  girl  is  engaged  —  " 

"  Arthur,  take  your  foot  away  from  that 
arch!" 

With  beautiful  precision  she  made  the  long 
"  split"  stroke,  and  was  safe  for  the  first  stake. 

"As  I  was  saying,  dear,  when  a  girl  is  en- 
gaged—3 

"  Arthur  !  you  are  trying  to  make  me  miss 
the  stake  !   Can't  you  play  fair  ? " 
. . .  162  •  •  • 


TAURUS  CUPID,  ESQ. 

"  I  'm  not  playing  at  all,  darling.  I  can't 
play.  I  can't  eat.  I  can't  sleep.  One  would 
expect  a  little  mercy  from  a  girl  who  wears 
his  engagement — " 

"There  !  you  moved  your  ball  just  as  I  was 
about  to  strike  for  it !  " 

The  Artist  groaned  and  replaced  the  ball. 
She  plumped  her  own  into  it  dexterously  from 
half-way  across  the  field,  and  proceeded  on  the 
home  stretch. 

"  I  don't  know  how  long  I  'm  going  to  stand 
this  suspense,"  sighed  the  Artist,  "and  yet  you 
resist  all  my  pleadings  to  name  the  day  —  " 

"  Arthur,  /  am  playing  croquet.  Will  you 
kindly  stand  one  side?" 

She  played  safely  up  to  the  last  arch. 

"  If  the  date  was  fixed,  dear,  I  think  I  could 
bear  your  lack  of —  enthusiasm  ;  that  is,  if  the 
date  were  reasonably  near  —  " 

"  Can't  you  keep  away  from  the  handle  of 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 

my  mallet,  Arthur  ?  Now  I  'm  staked  on  your 
ball,  and  must  risk  all  on  one  last  stroke." 

"  Oh,  you  '11  make  it,"  groaned  the  Artist. 
"  I  wish  that  ball  was  my  head.  Any  sort  of 
attention  would  be  better  than  none  at  all.  I  've 
lost  all  hope  of  getting  another  kiss — " 

"  Ha  !  Whitewashed  !  whitewashed !  "  sang 
the  girl,  dancing  about  the  stake.  "  Perhaps 
there's  some  other  game  you  play?" 

The  Artist  sat  down  on  the  grass  with  his 
head  in  his  hands. 

"  Does  your  head  ache,  Arthur  ?" 

"  My  heart  aches.  Darling,  have  pity  on  me 
and  name  the  day  when  we  two  — " 

"  Why,  certainly  -  -  Wednesday." 

The  Artist  leaped  to  his  feet. 

"  Day  after  to-morrow  —  how  happy  you 
make  me !  " 

"  Oh,  I  have  n't  decided  on  any  particular 
Wednesday." 

...  164  ... 


TAURUS  CUPID,  ESQ. 

He  threw  himself  back  on  the  grass. 

"  But  I  've  a  feeling  that  it  will  be  some 
Wednesday,  Arthur,  dear." 

Then  she  stooped  over  quickly  and  kissed 
him. 

"  I  wondered  whether  Arthur  would  have 
sufficient  diplomacy  to  let  you  win,  Galatea/' 
said  the  Poet,  with  a  perfectly  straight  face, 
his  approach  having  been  unobserved ;  "  but  it 
seems  that  I  did  him  an  injustice." 

"  I  don't  know  what  you  mean,"  said  Gala- 
tea with  dignity  ;  "  but  if  you  want  to  make  it 
a  three-handed  game,  I  '11  undertake  to  white- 
wash you  both." 

"  Oh,  there 's  nothing  in  it  for  me,"  drawled 
the  Poet  aggravatingly;  "however,  I'm  oblig- 
ing by  nature ;  I  don't  mind  simplifying  things 
for  Arthur." 

Galatea,  with  her  nose  in  the  air,  sent  her 
ball  through  the  first  two  arches  with  a  single 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 

stroke,  and  with  the  two  thus  gained  took 
position,  made  the  third  arch,  and  with  a  swift 
safe  drive  for  the  middle  one,  which  she  missed, 
found  herself  well  out  of  the  way  of  hostile 
balls. 

"There,"  she  said ;  "I  don't  mind  giving 
you  the  advantage  by  starting  first." 

"  Your  generosity  deserves  a  better  reward," 
said  the  Poet,  as  he  selected  a  mallet  with  great 
care,  "but  some  twenty  years'  observation  of 
the  game  has  taught  me  that  the  croquet  field 
is  where  friendship  ceases." 

The  Poet's  lank,  knobby  figure  was  about  as 
symmetrical  as  that  of  a  daddy-longlegs,  but 
he  had  the  eye  of  a  champion  marksman,  and 
no  nerves  at  all.  He  followed  his  sister's  tactics, 
and  improved  upon  them.  He  took  his  position 
at  the  third  arch  with  such  nicety  that  in 
striking  through  it  he  sent  his  ball  to  within  a 
yard  of  where  Galatea's  lay. 
...166-.. 


TAURUS  CUPID,  ESQ. 

"  Any  odds  ? "  he  asked  coolly,  as  he  clicked 
them  together. 

Galatea  was  scornfully  silent.  The  Poet's 
"  split "  for  position  at  the  centre  arch  was  de- 
fective, and  with  brutal  disregard  of  the  Art- 
ist's feelings  he  took  position  directly  in  line 
with  the  two  first  arches. 

"  Arthur,"  ordered  Galatea,  "  come  straight 
through  and  use  your  two  strokes  to  get 
George's  ball." 

"  Oh,  well,  if  you  're  going  to  play  partners 
against  me ! "  And  the  Poet  threw  down  his 
mallet. 

"There 's  no  rule  against  coaching,"  snapped 
Galatea. 

But  the  Artist's  mind  was  not  on  croquet. 
The  game  resolved  itself  into  a  contest  between 
the  Poet  and  his  sister  as  to  which  should  take 
the  greatest  liberties  with  his  ball.  Thus  they 
were  neck  and  neck  at  the  centre  arch  on  the 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 

home  stretch,  with  the  Artist  still  at  his  second 
arch.  Galatea  missed,  and  the  Poet  found  him- 
self in  cocksure  position  for  the  last  two  arches 
and  the  stake. 

By  this  time  all  the  four-legged  members  of 
the  firm  of  Bos,  Equus  and  Co.  had  drawn  near 
and  were  watching  the  progress  of  the  game 
with  lively  curiosity.  Reginald,  with  his  cus- 
tomary assurance,  now  advanced  with  ingra- 
tiating grunts  out  of  the  side  of  his  mouth,  and 
rubbed  his  side  against  the  Poet's  leg,  who  had 
a  sudden  inspiration. 

"Two  to  one  I  can  make  it  with  the  pig's 
legs  for  arches,"  he  said. 

Galatea  experienced  renewed  hope.  The 
Poet  cajoled  Reginald  into  standing  between 
the  two  arches  with  his  kinked  tail  resting  upon 
the  one  nearest  the  stake.  There  was  a  narrow, 
though  clear,  space  between  his  legs,  in  line 
with  the  arches. 

. . .  168  .  -  - 


ALL    THE    FOUR-LEGGED    MEMBERS    OF    THE    FIRM    HAD 
DRAWN    NEAR 


TAURUS  CUPID,  ESQ. 

"  Attention,  Reginald ! "  and  the  Poet  struck 
his  ball  with  just  the  requisite  force  to  send  it 
through  the  two  arches. 

Unfortunately,  at  that  instant  Reginald  sat 
down,  and  the  ball,  striking  his  fat  stomach, 
bounced  hopelessly  out  of  position.  Galatea 
dropped  on  the  grass  and  shrieked. 

"  I  '11  give  you  the  game,"  said  the  Poet. 
"  It 's  an  antiquated  pastime,  anyhow." 
:    "Sour  grapes,"  laughed  Galatea. 

"  Not  at  all.  I  've  thought  of  an  improve- 
ment, that 's  all,"  said  the  Poet.  "  Stay  where 
you  are,  Reginald.  William,  come  here." 

The  goat  put  his  nose  in  the  Poet's  hand  and 
followed  him  to  the  other  end  of  the  field, 
where  he  suffered  himself  to  be  stationed  be- 
tween the  two  arches  opposite  the  pig.  Over  the 
two  arches  on  one  side  the  Poet  stationed  Cleo- 
patra and  Clarence,  and  opposite  them  Mrs. 
Cowslip  and  Gustavius.  The  bull-calf  wrinkled 
. . .  169  •  •  • 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 

his  yellow  nose  and  looked  mutinous,  while  his 
comrades  seemed  much  gratified.  Then  the 
Poet  went  calmly  around  the  field  and  pulled 
up  all  the  arches,  except  the  centre  one,  and 
said :  — 

"  There,  all  we  lack  is  a  camel  or  an  elephant 
for  the  centre  —  but  nothing  is  perfect  in  this 
world,  at  the  start." 

"  George,'*  said  Galatea,  wiping  her  eyes, 
"  for  out-and-out  idiocy  you  certainly  take  the 
prize." 

"Not  at  all.  That's  what's  said  at  first 
about  every  great  discoverer.  There  has  n't  been 
a  single  improvement  in  this  game  in  seven 
hundred  years.  Now  for  the  first  time  in  his- 
tory you  're  going  to  see  croquet  played  with 
living  arches —  Ouch  !  " 

Clarence  had  made  a  sudden  playful  leap 
from  his  position  and  nipped  the  Poet's  lean 
thigh.  He  was  led  back  and  admonished  so 
. .'.  170  •  •  • 


TAURUS  CUPID,  ESQ. 

severely  that  he  meekly  refrained  from  making 
any  further  demonstrations. 

With  perfect  gravity  the  Poet  led  Galatea 
and  the  Artist  in  a  game  of  croquet  calculated 
to  make  history.  If  Mrs.  Cowslip  had  not 
kicked  the  Poet's  ball  clear  off  the  field  when  it 
bounced  smartly  against  her  tenderest  pastern, 
and  if  Gustavius  had  not  destroyed  the  Artist's 
nerve  by  bellowing  hoarsely  in  his  ear  at  a  crit- 
ical moment,  it  would  have  been  a  bewilder- 
ing success. 

"  Anyway,"  said  the  Poet,  when  Galatea  had 
won  through  rank  favoritism  on  the  part  of 
Reginald,  who  refrained  from  sitting  down  in 
her  critical  moment,  "anyway,  we  've  given  one 
more  demonstration  that  all  are  born  free  and 
equal  in  the  firm  of  Bos,  Equus  and  Co.,  even 
when  it  comes  to  croquet." 

"  One  thing  I  don't  understand,"  said  the  Art- 
ist, who,  being  in  love,  was  quite  hopelessly 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 

serious,  "  and  that  is  how  you  manage  these 
animals  turned  out  loose  this  way,  when  they 
become  unruly,  as  all  animals  are  apt  to  at 
times.'* 

"  The  learned  Professor  of  whom  we  rented 
this  place,  and  who  attended  to  their  early  edu- 
cation, did  n't  neglect  that  point,"  answered  the 
Poet,  with  a  solemn  glance  at  Galatea  which 
brought  before  her  mind's  eye  a  vision  of  their 
first  exciting  experience  with  William  and  Gus- 
tavius.  "  In  times  of  mutiny  one  magic  word 
uttered  by  the  Professor  brought  them  to  their 
senses  completely  humbled." 

"  Indeed  !  "  said  the  Artist.  "This  is  most 
interesting.  I  Ve  heard  of  such  methods  being 
used  by  animal  trainers.  What  is  that  word, 
George?" 

"  Its  efficacy,  Arthur,  consists  in  the  rarity 
of  its  use.  It  is  pronounced  only  as  a  last  resort, 
as  familiarity  would  breed  contempt  for  it. 


TAURUS  CUPID,   ESQ. 

The  word,  Arthur,  is"  —  and  he  whispered  in 
the  Artist's  ear  —  "Abracadabra." 

And  Galatea  related  the  circumstances  of 
their  single  observation  of  its  potency, — as 
recorded  in  the  early  part  of  this  veracious 
chronicle,  —  with  special  stress  on  the  advan- 
tages offered  by  a  low-limbed  cherry  tree  in  case 
of  pursuit  by  an  enraged  bull-calf. 

"What  you  have  told  me  is  really  wonder- 
ful," said  the  Artist.  "  Never  again  will  I  doubt 
that  domestic  animals  are  possessed  of  reason- 
ing powers,  as  well  as  capacity  for  affection." 

"  Here  comes  Gabriel,"  said  Galatea.  "  He 
looks  alarmed.  I  wonder  what  has  happened  ? " 

Gabriel  caught  his  breath  and  said,  address- 
ing the  Poet :  — 

"Si  Blodgett  fell  off  a  haystack  an'  thinks 
he  's  goin'  to  die.  He  wants  to  confess  about 
them  eggs." 

"  Oh,  the  poor  man  !  "  said  Galatea. 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 

"  This  is  n't  the  first  time  I  Ve  been  mis- 
taken for  a  clergyman  —  that  is,  at  first  sight," 
said  the  Poet.  "  Is  he  really  badly  hurt,  Ga- 
briel?" 

"  They  ain't  no  bones  broke,  but  Si 's  groanin' 
somethin'  terrible  an'  says  it 's  his  insides." 

"But  he  can't  want  me,"  said  the  Poet. 
"  Why,  I  put  together  the  links  of  circum- 
stantial evidence  that  proved  he  stole  the 

eggs." 

"  That 's  jest  it.  Si  says  you  're  th'  Lord's  in- 
strument sent  to  awaken  his  sleepin'  conscience 
—  darn  him  !  —  an'  he 's  afraid  of  hell-fire  if 
you  don't  come  an'  hear  his  confession." 

"  Poor  man  !  "  said  Galatea,  with  tears  in 
her  eyes.  "Come,  George,  I  '11  go  with  you. 
It 's  only  a  step.  Arthur,  you  wait  here  ;  we  '11 
soon  be  back." 

Conducted  by  Gabriel,  they  disappeared  down 
the  road,  and  the  Artist  was  alone  with  his  fate. 
...174... 


TAURUS  CUPID,   ESQ. 

He  had  no  premonition  of  disaster.  He  lay  on 
the  grass  with  his  eyes  closed,  wrapped  in  the 
joys  and  miseries  of  being  in  love. 

The  living  croquet-arches,  with  one  im- 
pulse, got  their  heads  together  and  considered 
the  situation. 

"  I,  for  one,  shall  go  and  take  a  look  around 
the  kitchen,"  said  Clarence. 

"  It 's  the  roof  of  the  house  for  me,"  said 
William ;  "  I  have  n't  had  a  good  view  of  the 
surrounding  country  since  strawberry-time." 

"  What  about  that  chap  on  the  grass  ? "  asked 
Gustavius.  "What  will  he  be  doing?" 

"That  reminds  me,"  said  Reginald  ;  "  now  's 
your  chance,  Gustavius.  You  've  been  longing 
to  catch  him  alone." 

The  bull-calf  shook  his  horns  sulkily.  "  I 
kind  of  hate  to  do  it.  He  seems  to  be  a  friend 
of  the  red-headed  girl." 

"  Besides,  my  son,"  observed  Mrs.  Cowslip, 
...175... 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 

"  none  of  our  race  ever  attacks  a  sleeping  per- 
son." 

"  Leave  that  to  me,"  said  Reginald;  "it's 
time  an  example  should  be  made  of  these  out- 
siders." 

Clarence  agreed  with  him.  They  began  cir- 
cling around  the  prostrate  enemy,  gradually 
drawing  nearer,  nipping  at  his  legs  or  arms  and 
darting  away,  until  at  length  Clarence's  teeth 
brought  their  victim  to  his  feet  with  a  yell  of 
mingled  surprise  and  pain.  But  the  Artist  was 
not  of  a  vengeful  disposition. 

"Ha!  ha!"  he  laughed,  "you're  spoiling 
for  a  frolic,  I  see  !  " 

He  ran  toward  the  colt  and  then  turned,  as 
though  inviting  pursuit.  The  invitation  was 
accepted  with  a  unanimity  that  thoroughly 
alarmed  the  Artist.  Even  Mrs.  Cowslip  and 
Cleopatra  were  making  hostile  demonstrations, 
while  William  was  backing  away  with  a  signifi- 
. . .  176  •  •  • 


TAURUS  CUPID,  ESQ. 

cance  that  caused  the  Artist  to  seize  a  croquet 
mallet  as  he  dodged  about  the  field.  This  was 
enough  for  the  bull-calf,  who  began  bellowing 
and  pawing  the  earth,  while  his  eyes  turned 
red. 

"  Good  fellows  !  good  boys  !  "  said  the  Art- 
ist, holding  out  his  hand. 

But  they  gathered  about  him  closer  yet,  with 
snorts,  bellows,  and  grunts  which  convinced  the 
Artist  it  was  time  to  exert  authority.  So  he 
shouted  in  a  stern  voice :  — 

"  Away  !  To  the  barn,  all  of  you  !  " 

For  answer  the  indignant  pig  ran  between 
his  legs,  all  but  upsetting  him,  and  the  others 
crowded  in  closer  yet.  Thoroughly  frightened, 
the  Artist  decided  that  extreme  measures  were 
justifiable.  Recalling  the  magic  word  whis- 
pered in  his  ear  by  the  Poet,  he  raised  his  hand 
and  thundered :  — 

"ABRACADABRA!" 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 

The  effect  was  instantaneous,  but  disconcert- 
ing. After  one  instant  of  general  stupefaction, 
Clarence  stood  on  his  hind-legs  with  his  fore- 
feet beating  the  air,  and  addressed  his  compan- 
ions in  a  shrill  whinny,  which  they  readily 
understood  to  mean  :  — 

"  What !  Shall  a  miserable  interloper  pre- 
sume so  far ! " 

"  Let  me  at  him ! "  roared  the  bull-calf,  with 
horns  low  and  tail  high. 

The  Artist  turned  and  fled,  with  Gustavius 
bellowing  at  his  heels,  urged  on  by  his  com- 
rades following  close  behind.  Straight  for  the 
house  sped  the  fugitive.  The  low-limbed  cherry 
tree  was  nearer,  and,  luckily,  he  remembered 
it  in  time.  Having  sufficient  presence  of  mind 
at  the  last  moment  to  fling  his  forty-dollar 
Panama  hat  into  Gustavius's  face,  he  swung 
himself  into  the  tree,  and  was  safe. 

Gustavius  kept  one  eye  on  him  while  prac- 


TAURUS  CUPID,  ESQ. 

ticing  on  the  hat,  which  was  presently  only  an 
expensive  memory. 

Clarence,  finding  the  kitchen  door  open, 
walked  in.  By  way  of  a  rain-water  barrel,  the 
woodshed,  and  the  water-tank, William  mounted 
to  the  peak  of  the  house  roof  and  proceeded 
to  enjoy  the  prospect.  Reginald  made  himself 
comfortable  in  a  veranda  rocker.  Mrs.  Cowslip 
found  the  soft  earth  of  the  tulip-bed  conducive 
to  somnolence  and  cud-chewing,  while  Cleo- 
patra grazed  near  by  on  some  late  pansies.  Such 
was  the  scene  that  presented  itself  to  Gala- 
tea when  she  returned  alone,  having  found  Si 
Blodgett  more  scared  than  hurt. 

"Why,  Arthur!"  she  exclaimed.  "What 
are  you  doing  up  there?" 

"  Call  off  your  bull-calf,  and  I  '11  come  down 
and  tell  you."  The  Artist  was  annoyed. 

"  Gustavius  ?  Why,  he  would  n't  hurt  a 
fly." 

•  •  •  179- • • 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 

"  Would  n't  he  ?  Just  look  at  my  forty-dol- 
lar Panama  ! " 

"  Oh,  Arthur,  surely  there  must  be  some 
mistake  —  some  misunderstanding." 

"It 's  past  the  misunderstanding  stage  when 
I  'm  treed  like  this." 

"  You  must  have  said  something  that  offended 
Gustavius.  He's  terribly  sensitive,  poor  fel- 
low ! " 

"  Said  something  !  I  treated  them  like  friends 
and  fellow  citizens  till  they  all  set  upon  me  at 
once;  then,  seeing  it  was  a  conspiracy,  I  said 
'Abracadabra,'  of  course." 

"  Oh,  Arthur !  You  forgot  that  you  had  no 
right  —  that  you  were  not  a  member  of  our 
family  —  yet." 

"  They  seemed  to  remember  it  all  right  — 
especially  the  bull-calf.  I  nearly  burst  a  blood- 
vessel getting  up  here." 

"  It  is  really  most  unfortunate,  Arthur."  She 
. . .  180-  •  • 


TAURUS  CUPID,  ESQ. 

looked  about  her,  at  the  late  pansies,  at  the 
tulip-bed,  and  at  the  house  roof,  and  said  re- 
proachfully :  "  William !  Mrs.  Cowslip  !  Cleo- 
patra !  " 

The  goat  came  meekly  down  from  the  roof. 
The  cow  and  the  mare  walked  slowly  off  to- 
ward the  barn,  much  mortified. 

"  You  don't  seem  to  mind  Gustavius  —  and 
me,"  complained  the  Artist. 

Galatea  sat  on  the  grass  and  took  off  her 
hat. 

"  You  may  come  down  presently,  Arthur.  I 
have  long  wanted  to  say  certain  things  to  you, 
but  you  are  so  impulsive  in  your  —  in  various 
ways,  that  it  seemed  necessary  for  me  to  wait 
for  some  such  opportunity  as  this,  when  you 
are  —  otherwise  occupied.  Arthur,  you  have 
pressed  me  to  name  a  day  for  a  certain  cere- 
mony —  " 

She  was  interrupted  by  a  bellow  from  Gus- 
...181... 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 

tavius,  consequent  upon  a  sudden  movement  of 
the  Artist,  who  immediately  concluded  not  to 
forsake  his  perch. 

"  Must  you  interrupt  me,  Arthur  ? " 

"I  didn't;  it  was  the  bull-calf;  I  don't 
bellow." 

"  Well,  Arthur,  I  'would  oblige  you  and  set  a 
date  for  our  wedding  if  I  were  quite  sure  that 
we  understand  each  other." 

"  Galatea,  there  's  nothing  to  understand  ex- 
cept that  I  love  you  to  the  extinction  of  every 
other  thought  or  feeling,  and  always  shall." 
He  paused  to  regain  his  balance,  for  the  tree 
was  a  small  one,  and  swayed  under  the  stress  of 
his  emotion. 

"  Then,  dear,  if  I  set  an  early  date,  will  you 
promise  faithfully  to  love  me  in  all  my  moods, 
no  matter  what  I  say  or  do,  and  never  be  angry, 
or  dispute  with  me  about  anything  ? " 

"  Bless  you,  my  darling !   I  swear  it !  " 
...  182  ... 


TAURUS  CUPID,  ESQ. 

"  Have  you  no  misgivings,  Arthur  ? " 

"  None,  none  !  Not  one  !  " 

"  Not  even  when  you  remember  that  my 
hair  is  red?" 

"  I  adore  red  hair  !  " 

"  But  not  on  other  girls,  Arthur  ? " 

"  No  ;  only  on  you,  darling." 

"  Thank  you,  Arthur,  dear.  If  the  second 
Wednesday  in  October,  five  weeks  hence,  will 
suit  you,  then  you  may  come  down  and  kiss 
me." 

«  Galatea ! " 

Gustavius  pawed  the  earth,  and  he  hesitated. 

"  Can  a  bull-calf  stand  between  you  and  me, 
Arthur?" 

"  Never!  "  He  leaped  far  out  from  the  tree 
and  took  her  in  his  arms. 

Gustavius  gave  them  one  glance  and  walked 
away  in  disgust.  Being  only  a  bull-calf,  he 
did  not  realize  that  he  had  accomplished  in  a 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 

single  afternoon  something  which  had  baffled 
the  little  rosy  god  himself  for  more  than  a 
year. 

The  sound  of  voices  in  the  road  brought  the 
lovers  back  to  earth. 

"  It 's  all  over,"  said  the  Poet,  catching  sight 
of  them.  "  Si  Blodgett  has  confessed  every- 
thing, and  his  insides  don't  hurt  him  any 
more." 

Gabriel  had  intercepted  the  rural  delivery ; 
he  gave  Galatea  a  letter  bearing  a  foreign  post- 
mark. She  tore  open  the  envelope,  read  two 
pages,  and  exclaimed  :  — 

"  O  George,  it 's  from  the  Professor !  Just 
listen  to  this :  — 

" '  Finding  the  cause  of  the  higher  education 
of  domestic  animals  much  farther  advanced  in 
Germany  than  in  America,  I  have  decided  to 
locate  permanently  in  Berlin,  where  some  pro- 
mising pupils  have  been  placed  in  my  charge,  in- 
...184... 


TAURUS  CUPID,  ESQ. 

eluding  a  young  ram  with  a  wonderful  talent 
for  algebra.  I  am  therefore  offering  for  sale  the 
place  which  you  leased  from  me,  at  the  very 
reasonable  price  of  seven  thousand  five  hun- 
dred to  you,  knowing  that  my  former  pupils  will 
thus  continue  in  good  hands/ ' 

"  Too  bad,"  sighed  the  Poet ;  "  I  've  often 
wished  I  'd  been  born  a  plumber." 

"  Galatea,"  said  the  Artist,  "  would  you  really 
like  to  have  this  place  for  your  own  ? " 

"  Oh,  Arthur,  it  makes  me  weep  to  think 
of  leaving  Gustavius,  and  Clarence,  and  Regin- 
ald—" 

"  And  Cleopatra,  and  Mrs.  Cowslip,  and 
William,  and  Napoleon,"  added  the  Poet. 

"  You  shall  not  leave  them,"  said  the  Artist, 
beaming  upon  them  both.  "  Give  me  the  Pro- 
fessor's address,  Galatea,  and  you  shall  have  a 
deed  of  the  place  on  the  second  Wednesday  in 
October." 

...185-.. 


GAMBOLLING  WITH  GALATEA 

"  Eh,  what 's  that  —  the  second  Wednesday 
in  October?"  said  the  Poet. 

"  Why,  on  that  happy  date,"  said  the  Art- 
ist, as  Galatea  flung  her  arms  about  his  neck, 
"  Bos,  Equus  and  Co.  are  to  take  in  a  new 
partner." 


(gtfte  ttters'ibc 

CAMBRIDGE  .  MASSACHUSETTS 
U   .   6   .   A 


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